THOMAS MARTINDALE 



' j ■ V 




* es 








■ 








,Yr *> 






•' ^ 


•& 


' ^ 


v x 






Ks % 



\V ■ 



4- ***, - 






<> =>■ 



i> 



-.V s <h. 



. V 



* m 



* v <V 



c -/ 



,•0' 



,0 o. 







O0 












>0 o. 



oH "7% 









■0' s 







■V ^k^/>fi^ 






^ 1 














* v x 






h 









7: \ 









o 



-■'• 







4 -y 



% & 



<& ^. 



.x^'% 



cS .HI. <^ c\\ 



•P V v 



* <p. 



,>. v "S\ O^ 



-v 






'* > SX ,. •« * Of C- V 






%$ 



£> 



\ 



.v 



y 








*- ^ ^ 



\0o 



«H ■< 







- -\^ x 






-A' 



^ ^ 



00 

^ , ft -*z> 

V ^ ^'// <> X V ^ * °/ c- V 

\ o fr O ^' ^ -P 



y- 







>0o. 



» - - y x 



'O ' * 

V ^ " , ''c- 







o^ ^ ^ 



-./. " a 1 a ' \V 
V ' 



s - v> 



■^v* 



.0' * ' '1 r. 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/withgunguideOOmart 




Copyright, 1907, by C. H. Graves 

Calling the Moose 



With 

Gun and Guide 



By 
THOMAS MARTINDALE 

Author of " Sport Indeed" 

With illustrations from photographs 




PHILADELPHIA 
GEORGE W. JACOBS & COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



^ 



•&W 



Copyright, 1910, by 

George W. Jacobs and Company 

Published, September, 1910 



All rights reserved 
Printed in U. S. A. 



©CI. A 2.715 78 



To my son 

Thomas C. 

who as a child, a schoolboy, and a 
man has lived his life in truth and 
sincerity, and who was my almost 
constant compa7tion from the days 
when he was a u wee toddlit? bairn " 
until he entered upon a business life, 
this book is affectionately dedicated 



Preface 

For those men whose days are spent in the bus}* - 
counting-house or store, buying or selling merchandise, 
poring over ledgers, making out accounts, with their 
ears dinned with the click of cash carriers, the rat-a-tat 
of typewriters, the snapping noise of adding machines, 
the buzzing whir of electric fans, perhaps now giving 
ear to a life insurance agent, again Jo the honeyed 
words of the wily promoter, to theT appeal for charity, 
to the man wanting an ad for his paper, or to the com- 
mittee begging money for a new church, while from 
outside of the business abode come the sounds of street 
cars crashing over intersections, the soul-torturing 
noises of itinerant street musicians, the chug-chug-chug 
of passing automobiles, the shrieking of newsboys, the 
shuffling of feet on the pavement as the surging multi- 
tudes pass and repass — for such men living in such a 
babel of discordant noises this book is written. 

In it the author attempts so to picture life in the 
woods, in the marsh, on the lake, on the mountains, 
and through the bogs in pursuit of game, as to inspire 
his readers and coax them to leave their desks and 
counters for a while and live an active life in the open. 
In doing this they will forget their thousand and one 



6 Preface 

irritations and perplexities. The excitement of hunt- 
ing will banish all their worries and fears ; the out- 
door exercise will cure their pains and ills ; and the 
peace of nature will make their discontent give place 
to a serenity of disposition worth a hundred times the 
cost of the outing, for 

"Hunting is the noblest exercise, 
Makes men laborious, active, wise, 
Brings health and doth the spirits delight, 
It helps the hearing and the sight ! 
It teacheth arts that never slip 
The memory, good horsemanship, 
Search, sharpness, courage and defense, 
And chaseth all ill habits thence." 

— JonsorCs Masques. 



Contents 

PART I 

In the Wilds of New Brunswick and 
the Maine Woods 

PAGB 

I. Off for the Woods . . . 13 

II. The Story of Lot's Wife . . . 18 

III. A Wholesale Robbery ... 24 

IV. Tracks of Big Game ... 36 
V. The Lost Lakes . . . .4* 

VI. The Old Scotch Colonel ... 47 

VII. A Solitary Disciple of Bacchus . 53 

VIII. A Famous Peribonca Portage . . 59 

IX. Missing a Big Moose at Thirty Yards 67 

X. The Wisdom of the Crow . . . 75 

XI. Once More a Bad Miss ... 83 

XII. Our Return to the Home Camp . 93 

XIII. Fierce and Extensive Forest Fires . 105 

XIV. A Night in the Open . . . 115 
XV. A Smoky Atmosphere . . .124 

XVI. Lost in a Cedar Swamp . . .136 

XVII. A Romance of " Our Lake " . . 148 

PART II 

A Hunting Trip in Northern British 

Columbia 

XVIII. Off for the Wilds . . . 177 

XIX. Spearing Salmon in the Northwest . 200 

XX. Watching for Bruin . . . 218 

7 



8 



CONTENTS 



XXI. The Lone Bull of Sandy Lake . . 229 
XXII. The " Switzerland of America " . 241 

XXIII. On the Trail of the Grizzly . .251 

XXIV. How the Salmon is Vanishing . . 265 
XXV. British Columbia Birds . . . 276 

XXVI. The Mephitis-Mephitica . . .286 
XXVII. Perils and Hardships that must be 

Endured ..... 294 

XXVIII. An Exciting Trip Through a New 

Country ..... 310 

XXIX. The End of the Trip . . . 326 



Illustrations 



Calling the Moose 

Bringing in a Pair of Deer . 

One Way of Getting Out a Moose 

Digging His Own Grave . 

The Liberated Moose 

Leaving the River End of Northeast 
Carry .... 

Good-bye to Genial Joe Smith . 

Arriving at " Our Lake " . 

Distant View of Camp on " Our Lake ' 

The Martindale Camp in Maine 

Well Stalked at Last . 

Leaving Our Maine Camp for Home 

A Stage Coach on the Famous Cariboo 
Road .... 

Dr. Hughes on the Bear River Trail 

A Pair of Doctors Spearing Salmon 

Kibbie, Al, and Mr. Martindale at 
Upper Cabin on Bear River 

Waiting for the Wind to Go Down 

Crossing the Portage from Spectacle 
Lake to Little Lake 

Two Sockeyes and a Big Spring Salmon 



Frontispiece 

Facing page 20 

« u g 2 

" " 50 

" " 62 

" " 78 

" « 86 

" « 96 

" " no 

" " 126 

" " 140 

" " 160 

" " 180 

" " 194 

" " 210 

« " 222 

« " 236 

" " 254 

" " 268 



io 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



Grizzly Bear Killed by Dr. Roe on 
Spectacle Lake ... * 

Stretching the Skin of the Black Bear 
Killed by Dr. Hughes 

Cooking a Meal at the Edge of the 
Timber Line 

Preparing to Cross the Trail to Barker- 
ville ...... 

Swimming and Wading Bear River 



278 
290 
302 

3H 
328 



PART I 

In the Wilds of New Brunswick 
and the Maine Woods 



CHAPTER I 

OFF FOR THE WOODS 

" Are not these woods more free from peril than the envious court ? " 

— As You Like It. 

Enteking the close and heated train in Broad Street 
Station one Friday night in September, bound for New 
Brunswick via Boston, I was glad to fly for a time 
from the dirt and dust and the excruciating noises of 
our much-abused business street. The relaying of the 
paving blocks was being carried on in some places with 
the clicking of hammers and the pounding of rammers, 
while in other spots the street was being ruthlessly torn 

up for the th time ; the blind mendicants, with 

their discordant playing of the cornet, the fife, the 
flute, the accordion and the barrel organ, were moving 
at a snail-like pace, meandering in and out of the 
crowded throngs and adding their quota of noise to 
the other nerve-destroying conditions. 

When the train pulled out the sleeper was well filled. 

Three young actresses enlivened the spirits of the 
other passengers, for they were comely and exuber- 
antly happy. A young farmer from Woodstown, N. J., 
was journeying all the way to Fort Fairfield, in the ex- 
treme northeast corner of Maine, in search of potatoes. 



i 4 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

He had already purchased over two trainloads, but was 
now after more. 

We made connection at Boston with the Boston and 
Maine through-train for St. Johns, N. B., the cars being 
well filled with tourists, business men, and prospective 
hunters. 

The day was very hot and close, the thermometer at 
one time registering ninety degrees in the shade, so 
coats and vests were dispensed with, and to while 
away the passing minutes on the all-day ride the polit- 
ical situation was most constantly and thoroughly dis- 
cussed, and the quaint observations of some of the 
citizens of the great state of Maine, through which we 
were passing, were decidedly amusing and original, 
and, as showing the trend of popular feeling, were in- 
teresting as well. 

A sharp-voiced, sharp-chinned and sharp-tongued 
down east woman, in conversation with another house- 
wife, gave to her copious extracts from her ripe expe- 
rience as a cook. 

Three women were aboard accompanied by their 
male protectors, and, as they were one and all loaded 
down with rifles and fishing-tackle, it was easy to see 
that they were hurrying to get into the woods so as to 
be there in time for the open season on deer, which is 
October 1st. 

In spite of the extreme heat, some of them affected 
hunting boots and woolen stockings. One woman had 



OFF FOR THE WOODS 15 

her sweater resting upon her shoulder a good part 
of the journey, while her husband actually wore his 
sweater. How they must have suffered you can well 
judge. 

' We found the streams through this country nearly 
dried up, the lakes looked more like stagnant ponds, 
the fields were burnt brown by the sun and the leaves 
of the trees were dull and lusterless with their covering 
of dust. All nature was crying for rain. 

The quaint old city of Fredericton, our first stop, 
is garrisoned by a force of Canadian soldiers, who 
replaced the imperial troops shortly after the close of 
the Boer war. This has always been a garrison town 
from the earliest times. It is the capital of the prov- 
ince, and therefore the seat of government. There's a 
cathedral here of the established church and many 
other churches. 

Upon a great occasion over a century ago, when a 
distinguished guest was to honor the settlement with 
his presence and a multitude of people had convened 
to give him welcome, and the St. Johns River, which 
flows by the town, was alive with gaily bedecked 
canoes and barges, while stately " four-masters," brigs 
and barks from many foreign and domestic ports helped 
with their festive display of bunting and with the 
thundering of small cannon to make the day and the 
occasion a memorable one in the history of the country, 
a raft was seen coming, which had put out from the 



16 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

mouth of the Tobique River, which enters the St. Johns 
over one hundred miles above. This raft was loaded 
with a cargo of one hundred and forty-one moose that 
had been killed on the upper waters of this renowned 
salmon and trout stream. And this lordly freightage 
of royal venison was to provide meat for a series of bar- 
bacues with which to satisfy the appetites and nourish 
the bodies of the host of visitors to this the capital of 
the province. 

The first hunting accident of this season happened 
near here some two weeks before our arrival. A couple 
of brothers — young men — started in a wagon for a 
drive of twenty-five miles, where they were told they 
might get a moose. On reaching their camping spot 
they mutually agreed that one of them should keep 
near enough to watch a famous spring, while the other 
was to watch a slough where many moose tracks were 
seen. The one who was to watch the slough changed 
his mind without notifying the brother, and started for 
the spring. When he came near the spring he noticed 
some branches moving low down and saw an object 
through the leaves, which he at once fired at, and hit. 
It was his brother, who had been kneeling down. 

When I looked out of my bedroom window my first 
morning in Fredericton, the light, by reason of the 
smoke from distant forest fires, was anything but good. 
A tall church steeple, crowning a comparatively new 
church, attracted my attention because of some indis- 



OFF FOR THE WOODS 17 

tinct object at the top of the spire. In the hazy at- 
mosphere I imagined it any one of many improbable 
things ; as the light grew stronger, however, I made it 
out to be a reproduction of the human hand, neces- 
sarily constructed upon an enlarged scale, with the fore- 
finger and thumb pointing upward in the direction of 
where heaven is popularly supposed to be located. My 
curiosity was excited to know how and why this object 
came to be placed away up there. 

After thinking it over I decided that when the 
church was built the trustees concluded to have " some- 
thing different," and picked out a well-known design 
in advertising that appropriately reminds the congre- 
gation that " there is hope." 

The First Methodist Church of Fredericton is now 
popularly known as the " thumb-up church." So long 
live the power of virile and intelligent advertising and 
the First Methodist Church of Fredericton, which was 
bound to have "something different," for verily she 
has gotten it. 



CHAPTER II 

THE STORY OF LOT'S WIFE 

"Let the sky rain potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of Green 
Sleeves." — Merry Wives of Windsor. 

Theee lives in New Brunswick, Canada, a farmer, 
trapper, guide, naturalist and self-taught botanist whose 
name is Henry Braithwaite, and whose years number 
sixty-seven. Ten years ago I tried to obtain his serv- 
ices as a guide, but was informed by his spokesman, 
who acted for him in his absence, that he was engaged 
ahead for some three years. He is almost as well 
known among the sportsmen of Great Britain as he is 
among those of the United States. His clients from 
the "Tight Little Island" include many members of 
the British nobility, as well as business men, bankers 
and professional men of that sport-loving people. 

Among the citizens of Fredericton he is familiarly 
known as "Uncle Henry," while to the natives, the 
guides and the trappers he is " Harry Birthrite." 

That I might spend a short hunting season with him 
this year he managed, by cutting off a few days at the 
end of one engagement and a few days at the begin- 
ning of another, to give me thirteen days and a half 
during the latter part of September and the early days 
of October. 

We left Fredericton at 6:30 P. M., September 28th, 



THE STORY OF LOT'S WIFE 19 

by the Intercolonial Railway of Canada, a railroad 
operated under government ownership, the only one, so 
far as I know, so owned and operated on this continent. 

Those who imagine a multitude of good things to 
come from such ownership in the United States should 
surely take a trip to New Brunswick and see how their 
pet theory works out in practical operation. They will 
quickly be disillusioned. In the forty-seven miles over 
which we traveled, the road-bed was poorly ballasted, 
the rails were light and very carelessly laid. The cars 
were dirty and dilapidated, wash-bowls broken, toilet 
rooms filthy, windows dirty and the water coolers out 
of commission. The stations were decrepit in appear- 
ance and slovenly kept, everything betokening the fact 
that here was a road that had political sponsors, polit- 
ical favorites as operators and, perhaps, more or less, 
political graft in the purchase of supplies and in the 
appointment of the men. 

Boisetown was the end of our railroad journey, and 
the beginning of the serious and rugged part of the 
trip. I wish that a faint picture could be given of the 
character of the road over which our course lay. The 
first day's journey was a gradual and lasting climb to 
a higher altitude, although we seemed to go up and up, 
only to come down again to the same level. 

On some steep inclines the soil had washed away 
from the surface of the road, leaving a pathway of 
nothing but naked boulders of all sizes and shapes. 



20 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

Over these the careful horses wended their way slowly 
and very cautiously. In many places springs discharged 
their waters into the road, thus making veritable seas 
of mud when helped, as in our case, by copious rains. 

Our outfit consisted of two horses and a wagon, to 
haul the supplies, and a saddle horse for my conve- 
nience. Uncle Henry walked, along with the man who 
was to act as cook, and a boy who was to take the 
saddle horse back to the settlement. We were hardly 
on our way before a rain-storm came on, at first gently, 
but soon it became violent, being accompanied by fierce 
gusts of wind. Our oilskin clothes were but little pro- 
tection, as the swirling drops trickled down our backs 
and down our legs over the boot tops. 

We cheerily jogged on, despite the rain and the con- 
sequent discomfort, and the first day's trip ended at 
about dark at "Brown Camp." Being the first to 
arrive, I quickly had a fire burning in the stove, while 
" Henry " set about getting something cooked. 

While we were doing this a middle-aged Englishman 

entered and craved shelter for his wife, Mrs. B , 

who had ridden all day astride, and was drenched 
through and through. He said that his " cartmen " — 
cook, hostler and guides — were on the way, and would 
arrive about an hour later. 

We, of course, said " yes " to his request and so he 
brought in a bonnie, rosy-cheeked little Englishwoman, 
who said she had enjoyed every minute of the trip. 




Copyright, 1905, by C. H. Graves 

Bringing in a Pair of Deer 



THE STORY OF LOT'S WIFE 21 

They had been in the woods for nearly thirty days, 
and were now on their way out. She and her husband 
were given seats by the stove, and their steaming 
clothes readily attested the efficiency of our fire. 

But now I was in a dilemma. I wanted to remove 
my wet clothes and get on dry ones, but the woman 
was in the way. There was a bunk in the camp with 
one upper and one lower berth, each large enough for 
four men. Putting some dry clothes on the top berth 
I climbed up to it and thus addressed the lady : 

"Mrs. B , do you remember what happened to 

Lot's wife ? " 

" Why, no ; I don't recollect ever having heard about 
her. Who was she ? " 

"Well, she and her husband were ordered by the 
Lord to leave Sodom and Gomorrah because both of 
these cities were very wicked." 

" Keally, now, is that so ? " said Kosy Cheeks. 

" Yes, surely ; because the Bible says so." 

" Did they leave then ? " 

" Yes, but she looked back." 

Mrs. B 's woman's curiosity compelled her to say : 

" What happened to her then ? " 

" She was turned into a pillar of salt." 

" Keally, now, is that so ? " 

" Yes, indeed," I replied, " and I'm going to change 
my wet clothes up here for dry ones, and if you look 
back you'll be turned into a pillar of salt." 



22 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

" Really ? Well, I won't look back." 

After I changed the clothes we— Henry's party — 
sat down to supper, and the " cartmen " and others of 
the Englishman's outfit having arrived, they pitched 
a couple of tents and started their fires. Their cook 
then came in to make use of our cooking facilities to 
prepare their supper. 

Having been in the saddle all day, and naturally 
feeling very stiff and sore, I thought a sitz bath in hot 
water would be just the thing to take the stiffness out, 
provided I could find something to sit down in that 
would hold water. Outside I had noticed a deep ob- 
long pan, which was used for feeding the horses. It 
was speedily washed out, and half filled with hot water 
of the right temperature, and I once more undressed 
and entered the improvised bathtub. 

I asked the Englishman's cook if Mrs. B was 

likely to come in before she was sent for. He said 
"no," because she was seated before a good fire of her 
own, and that supper wouldn't be ready for a quarter 
of an hour, so that I should have plenty of time to get 
the bath. Now here I sat perched in the upper berth 
as upon a pedestal and as naked as Adam was before his 
momentous fall from grace, when in walked Mrs. B . 

" Really, now, Mrs. B ," I said, " you mustn't look 

forward this time, but backward." 

So right about face was the word, and she sat down 
laughing at the contretemps. 



THE STORY OF LOT'S WIFE 23 

Later on her husband complained bitterly about the 
" cartmen," who had allowed all of his dunnage to get 
wet, saying : 

" In England, you know, ' cartmen ' are compelled 
to carry a tarpaulin and to use it, but these bloody 
' cartmen ' only put a thin rubber sheet over the things, 
and they are all damnably wet. Don't you think I 
could recover from them ? " 

"Perhaps," I replied, "but it will be the cheapest, 
the quickest and the best way to grin and bear it." 

In the morning, the husband was still out of humor 
over the "bloody cartmen," but Rosy Cheeks was as 
chipper and joyous as ever, thanking God perhaps in 
her heart for the sunshine, which had now come, and 
for her ability to stand the cruel hardships of the jour- 
ney. They mounted their horses and were soon lost 
to sight, but they are a lasting lesson that there's 
always a bright side to the darkest picture, if one will 
but look for it. And on this lovely morning even 
the much-abused " cartmen " were good humored and 
contented. 



CHAPTER III 

A WHOLESALE ROBBERY 

" Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen in murders and in 
outrage. ' ' — Richard II. 

Many years ago I had a rainy day experience in the 
woods totally different from the above recital. The 
time was in August of the year 1871. I was then a 
resident of Oil City, Pa., and a month or so before that 
date a prominent lawyer of that town — whom I will call 
Larkin, although in reality that's not his name — filled 
my ears with stories of woodcock and pheasant shoot- 
ing, with perhaps a chance at a bear, together with 
splendid trout fishing, and all to be found on the 
western slope of the Alleghanies. The station was 
about fourteen miles from the summit of the moun- 
tains. Larkin said we should find the best shooting 
and fishing upon a small run, which found its way into 
the Alleghany River, and this was to be our base of 
operations. 

In due time we arrived at the flag station, and from 
there Ave lugged in our supplies — tent, rifle, shotgun, 
ammunition, etc. We soon found a likely spot to pitch 
our tent on the bank of a swift-running brook, where 
we were close to some fine trout pools, and also to 



A WHOLESALE ROBBERY 2$ 

some inarshy ground where we saw many borings 
made by the noblest game bird on the continent, the 
woodcock. 

Our first day's sport resulted in the catching of a 
fine string of one hundred and ten speckled trout and 
a brace of woodcock. We hung the trout up on a 
leaning tree, but during the night an otter managed to 
get at them and ate the bodies, leaving only the heads 
strung on the cord from which they were hanging. 

The next day we wandered off two or three miles, 
Larkin carrying a seven barreled revolving rifle made on 
the same principle as an ordinary revolver, while I had 
my shotgun. About four o'clock in the afternoon, a 
thunder-storm came on accompanied by a fierce down- 
pour of rain. Almost simultaneously with the bursting 
of the shower, some lumbermen, who were running to 
their camp, hailed us and invited us to go with them 
so as to get under shelter. We gladly accepted their 
invitation, but when we reached the camp, we were 
soaked through with the rain. 

The men made us welcome. We were told to take 
off our wet clothes and hang them up before the fire to 
dry, and they gave us some of their own clothes to sit 
around in while waiting for supper to be served. 
There were thirty-four men in the crew, including 
choppers, teamsters, cooks, etc. For the most part, 
they were a decent-looking lot of men, free of care and 
apparently contented with their work. The exceptions 



26 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

were five or six furtive-looking fellows whose 
faces betokened possible outlaws and outcasts from 
society. 

Before the supper was announced, two more sports- 
men entered the log shanty and craved shelter. They 
had with them nothing but their fishing-rods, creels, 
revolvers, and wallets. The men were made welcome 
the same as we had been. They doffed their wet 
garments and put on clothes loaned them by the 
lumbermen. ' When supper was ready, places were 
made for the four of us, and we all enjoyed the baked 
beans, boiled cabbage, tea sweetened with molasses, 
and johnny-cake in place of bread. 

After supper the rain continued to pour as hard as 
ever, and Larkin undertook to entertain the men by 
narrating stories. He was a very eloquent and a very 
well-read man, thoroughly up in ancient Greek litera- 
ture, in which language he was almost as much at 
home as in his mother tongue. He had his hobby like 
the most of us, and his - was a strong belief in the 
superiority of nerve force over physical force. In our 
walks he would start upon this, his favorite theme, and 
would illustrate it in some such manner as this : " Wow 
you see I'm six feet two in height and weigh two 
hundred and ten pounds. I take a great deal of ex- 
ercise every day so that I am always in splendid 
physical condition. You are five feet eight and a half 
and weigh less than one hundred and fifty pounds. 



A WHOLESALE ROBBERY 27 

You get little or no physical exercise, and, therefore, 
in a personal contest, I ought to have the advantage 
over you ; but if your nerve force dominated mine, you 
would surely conquer in the end." 

This night he entranced his listeners with stories 
sustaining his favorite doctrine, showing that most of 
the really great men of the world had been men below 
the medium height and strength, but men endowed 
with great nerve force. He illustrated this doctrine 
by citing examples from life. [Napoleon Bonaparte, 
the Duke of Marlborough, Grant, Lord Nelson, Byron, 
Alexander the Great, and Sheridan, were small men 
both in stature and weight, yet in their day and gen- 
eration these men helped to dominate the world. 

Two of the ill-visaged men took exception to Larkin's 
conclusions, and so did one of the pair of hunters who 
happened to be a big strapping fellow, and who evi- 
dently couldn't see where a little " cuss " could get the 
better of him. The rain kept on, and we all finally 
turned in to our respective bunks, and soon were lulled 
to sleep by the rain pattering on the roof. 

"W e awoke the next morning to find that each one of 
the four of us hunters had been robbed. Larkin had 
his wallet taken containing thirty-four dollars ; the 
other two men had each a revolver and these with 
their pocketbooks, which contained all their money, 
were also missing. The writer's watch was purloined 
but the robbers missed the money — thirty-one dollars 



28 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

— which had been stowed away in a fob pocket. We 
held a council of war outside of the log shanty while 
the lumbermen were eating their breakfasts. We had 
informed them that we had been robbed, but they one 
and all protested their innocence, and assured us of 
their chagrin that such a thing should have happened 
in their camp. After they left the camp, we made 
a thorough search of the premises, but could find none 
of the stolen stuff. 

We were now served with breakfast by the cookee — 
the cook's assistant — a lad of perhaps eighteen years of 
age. The evening when we arrived, this youngster 
had been quite kind and courteous to me, and I in con- 
sequence gave him a little present in return for his 
kindness, and now he motioned to me to go outside 
with him. There he informed me that there were five 
" Bushwhackers " in the crew of lumbermen who were 
out-and-out bad fellows, who would rob a man as 
quickly as any professional pickpocket, and that they 
each of them had " done time " in prison. These men 
he named, and gave it as his belief that they were the 
robbers. His description of the men satisfied me that 
they were the same men whose looks had made such 
an unpleasant impression upon us. 

The county town was thirty miles away from where 
we were located, and but one passenger train each way 
a day stopped at our station — when flagged, — but there 
were many " Empire Line " fast freight trains which 



A WHOLESALE ROBBERY 29 

stopped a little way below our station for the engine to 
take on water. 

When my conference with the cookee was ended, I 
called out my three companions in distress, told them 
of the boy's disclosures and asked them what they 
were going to do about the robbery. Larkin led off by 
saying that nothing could be done — that no constable 
could be found in the county town to serve a warrant, 
if one was sworn out, and that if one was found brave 
enough to come up and serve it, then if a search failed 
to find the booty, we would be in a bad strait, and he 
for one wouldn't be a party to any plan to arrest the 
five men on the simple say-so of a youth of eighteen. 
The other two men concurred in Larkin's decision. 

I then told them that I had a different idea and 
should act upon it, and asked their aid and cooperation 
in carrying it out. The plan was that I should board 
an Empire Line freight at the water tank, explaining 
the situation to the train crew ; go down to the county 
court and swear out a warrant for four of the men — 
the youth was a bit doubtful about one of them being 
implicated in the robbery ; get a constable to come 
with me to serve the warrant ; obtain a permit to ride 
on an Empire Line train back again, and if necessary 
to flag one of the same line on the down trip the fol- 
lowing morning if we succeeded in taking the four men 
as prisoners. This my companions agreed to, and they 
also promised to be waiting in some hidden place for a 



30 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

signal of four blasts of the locomotive whistle which I 
was to ask the engineer to blow on nearing the water 
tank coming back. Then they were to show them- 
selves and we were to agree upon plans for the capture 
of the outlaws. 

In carrying out this plan the train was successfully 
boarded ; an hour and a half afterward I landed in the 
town, found my way to the court-house and swore out a 
warrant. There were three constables in the town; 
two of them pleaded other important business, and de- 
clined to go with me. The third, a veteran of the 
Civil War, a small wiry " cuss," said that he was glad 
to have a chance to arrest that bunch, because he had 
a record of them which showed them to be " villains of 
the deepest dye." He took a revolver, a large sheath 
knife, and five pairs of handcuffs (" an extra pair, you 
see, if they should be needed," he said), and then we 
went to the superintendent of the railroad for the 
needed permits to flag and to ride on the trains. These 
having been procured, we had something to eat and then 
waited around the depot until a train was ready to start, 
for this town was a division point on the railroad. 

We rode on the engine. The train was a heavy one 
and the grade so steep that it was necessary to have a 
" pusher " engine part of the way. In due time the 
water-tank was reached, the four blasts from the 
engine brought my companions to our side, and the 
final plans were laid. 



A WHOLESALE ROBBERY 31 

The men not having returned from their work yet, 
we secreted ourselves until they arrived, and had 
washed themselves and sat down to supper in the 
dining cabin, for it must be remembered that there was 
a sleeping cabin as well as one where the meals were 
served. Then I went into the shanty where we had 
slept, brought my shotgun out, putting in it a couple 
of cartridges loaded with No. 1 shot, the largest I 
carried with me, and the five of us marched into the 
dining-room. There the constable read his warrant to 
the four men and ordered them to come out one by 
one and be handcuffed, while I with leveled gun gave 
them just one minute to obey the command. 

The first man called upon hesitated and refused to 
rise ; a second warning had to be given to him before 
he rose from his seat, walked around the table, and 
allowed the constable to put the handcuffs on. The 
rest followed suit without demur. We took them into 
the sleeping cabin and agreed to keep watch over them 
during the night by turns ; the constable and the 
writer to watch until 1 A. M. and the other three men 
to watch until daylight. 

For fear of an attempted rescue, it was deemed 
wise to keep the men in the dining-room over night, 
and after the other men had eaten their meal and 
gone to their bunks to lock the single big door of the 
room so that none of the others could enter again. 
We therefore brought in all of our belongings from the 



32 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

sleeping cabin, including Larkin's seven barreled rifle 
and my shotgun, and these it will be seen played 
quite a part in the now swiftly moving drama. The 
prisoners were morose, and had little or nothing to say 
beyond making threats as to what would happen to us 
when they received their liberty ; and I — the man who 
had sworn out the warrant — would meet with their most 
summary vengeance. To relieve the tension, Larkin 
tried his hand at telling stories and engrossed their 
attention and ours too for several hours. 

At about ten o'clock one of the men said that his 
folks lived in the county town and as he was known 
there to everybody, he would like permission to change 
his working clothes for a " Sunday-go-to-meeting suit." 
He informed us that one of the men knew where his 
clothing, shirts, collars, etc., were kept, and would get 
them and bring them to him if we would give the man 
permission to come in. We thought this to be a 
reasonable request. The man was sent for, and he 
turned out to be the fifth man whom the youth had 
advised us to arrest. It was, of course, necessary to 
take off the prisoner's handcuffs to enable him to 
undress and dress again. When this operation was 
completed, the handcuffs were replaced. He then 
remembered that he had a " diamond " stud which he 
would like to put in his shirt front. This made an- 
other trip for his confederate — for so he turned out to 
be — to the other cabin for the " diamond." 




Copyright, 1899, by Keystone View Co. 

One Way of Getting Out a Moose 



A WHOLESALE ROBBERY 33 

When he returned with the stone, I happened to 
notice that the prisoner was directing with his eyes the 
other man's attention to the corner of the room nearly 
back of him, where the rifle and the shotgun were 
standing against the log wall. The confederate turned 
round a little, saw the firearms, and comprehended at 
once what the other man meant by his silent signals. 
So he at once made a dash for the corner, grabbing the 
rifle with his right hand, but I had jumped as quickly 
as he, and catching the shotgun almost simultaneously 
with the confederate's grasp of the rifle, I struck that 
weapon with the barrel of the shotgun, knocking it 
upward, and then, of course, I had him covered with 
the gun. He was speedily disarmed, and in spite of 
his struggles the extra pair of handcuffs were snapped 
on his wrists. 

Now we had five men to watch. We brought in 
some quilts and some straw, and made places for them 
to lie on the floor for the balance of the night while 
Larkin and the other two men lay down at the far end 
of the cabin. 

At one end of the dining-room a square hole was cut 
in the logs to allow ventilation, and also to permit the 
garbage to be thrown out into a barrel which stood out- 
side in front of this opening. At about twelve-thirty 
in the morning, when the other three watchers were 
sleeping soundly, and we who were on duty had been 
dozing for a few minutes, we both heard a slight 



34 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

noise, and, starting up, found the fifth or last prisoner 
nearly half-way out of the opening at the back, being 
helped in his movements by sympathizers outside, who 
were pulling the man bodily through the square hole. 
We, of course, stopped this attempted escape, awakened 
the other sentinels, and the bunch of us then told 
stories and walked around the cabin to keep awake 
until daylight came. 

Upon the advice of Larkin we took the men outside, 
one by one, and put them through a severe course of 
cross questioning. The constable, having a pretty good 
record of some of their past misdemeanors, finally per- 
suaded one of them to confess the full particulars of 
the robbery, and he showed us where the stolen plunder 
was hidden, in a pile of manure back of the stable 
where the oxen were housed — as oxen were used on 
this lumber operation in place of horses. Everything 
was found just as it had been hidden. The man, in 
his confession, told us who were the prime movers 
in the robbery, etc. 

Breakfast was served to the men without removing 
the handcuffs. There being five of us, each fed one of 
the prisoners, and then we ate. Taking with us the 
" cookee " as the important witness, we went to the 
water tank and there awaited the arrival of a train. We 
boarded the first one that came along and were soon 
in the county town. There the prosecuting attorney 
made out the indictment on the evidence we presented. 



A WHOLESALE ROBBERY 35 

When the case came up for trial, it developed that 
three of the prisoners had planned to wreck the pas- 
senger train going west the same night that they 
robbed us, which train was due at our flag station a 
few minutes after 9 p. m. Their plan was to open a 
switch and run the train into the mill-dam. They then 
intended to rob the passengers and the mail and ex- 
press cars. When this evidence came out, together 
with their record for other crimes, the men were found 
guilty, and two were sentenced to ten years each in 
the penitentiary ; one to five years ; one to three years 
and the man who " peached " got off with a year. 

When it was all over I said to Larkin, " Say, old boy, 
what about your doctrine of nerve force versus physical 
force ? " 

"Well," he said, "this incident has proved my 
doctrine to be sound and right ; I had the physical 
force, but I surely lacked the nerve force, and that's 
all there is to it." 



CHAPTER IV 

TRACKS OF BJG GAME 

"But soft ! Methinks I scent the morning air ! Brief let me be." 

— Hamlet. 

The clouds having cleared away, and the horses hav- 
ing been well fed and rested, we started bright and early 
on our second day's journey, and once more the weary 
plodding, climbing, jumping and sliding began. 
" Uncle Henry " was feeling quite badly on account of 
our visitors of the night before, and particularly because 
of the " lady in the case." He had lain down in his wet 
clothes, thinking to change them when she had departed 
for her tent ; but she tarried too long for his tired and 
weary condition. Exhausted nature demanded sleep, 
and so before she left he was in a profound slumber. 

He got up from his bunk complaining of a swollen 
and very sore throat, having contracted a bad cold, 
which remained with him during the whole of our trip. 

Three miles before our camping place was reached 
we passed close to Salmon Brook Lake, where a 
large moose had been dodging bullets from many 
rifles ever since the season opened, on September 
15th. Henry led me in to view it. We found 
an abundance of fresh tracks, and among them those 
of the " big fellow " himself. 



TRACKS OF BIG GAME 37 

Something which looked like a log in the distance 
suddenly showed signs of life. It was his majesty 
feeding on the succulent grass which grows in the bot- 
tom of the lake, and of which the moose is very fond. 
He raised his head and at once looked around in our 
direction. Though he was much over a half mile away, 
still, as the wind from us was blowing directly upon 
him, he got our scent. His mane went up and he 
started off, heading for the nearest point of land ; he 
was not long in crashing through the undergrowth on 
the bank to where he was safe from inquisitive hunters. 

The first incident on this second morning of our trip 
was the inspection of a dam where, in the early part of 
the season, one of Henry's " sports " had lain down on 
the slanting abutment of the breast and fallen asleep. 
He was awakened by the breaking of a limb, and there, 
right before him, was his quarry, coming head-on. His 
rifle did its work, and the " sport " was thus spared many 
a weary mile of tramping because his game obligingly 
came to him. 

Next we reached Hurd Lake, along whose western 
shore our route lay. I, being in the advance, spied a very 
large cow moose feeding in the water. Dismounting I 
waited until Henry arrived. He made a couple of calls 
with his birch-bark horn, to see if she had a bull with 
her, saying that if she had, he would certainly make 
his presence known. Hearing no reply to the moose 
calls, we continued the journey. 



38 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

Two years ago, from out of the far northwest, a 
German by the name of George Newman came to Henry 
to hunt for moose. He walked all the way, and suffered 
very much in consequence, as he was of portly build ; 
besides he was but a poor walker. 

His guide, as is usual with all guides, pointed out to 
him the various game tracks on the road. 

" Here's a fresh track just made this morning. It's a 
cow's. Here is a calf's track. So it's a mother and 
her calf. This track is a bull's, but it's an old one. 
You can see it was made before the last rain. Do you 
see this little track ? It's a doe's track." 

And so on from hour to hour and day to day. As 
the German's sight was not good and he had to change 
his glasses every time he examined the numerous 
tracks, by the time he reached Hurd Lake he had be- 
come tired and impatient of hearing about the never- 
ending tracks, and he declared himself in this manner. 

" See here, my friendt, I do not want to see dose bulls' 
tracks, dose cows' tracks or dose calfs' tracks. I do 
not want to know how fresh or how old dey are, 
whedder dey were before de rain or after de rain. I 
did not come here to see tracks. I come to see live 
tings — not tracks. Now, I command you, show me 
not tracks any more, but de animals what make dose 
tracks. Und I hereby notify you dat I will not pay for 
dem tracks hunting, but only for de hunting of de 
animals demselves." 



TRACKS OF BIG GAME 39 

After this the guide was silent as to tracks. 

I had brought a new .22 calibre rifle with a plentiful 
supply of Hoxsie bullets. This Henry carried, and 
with deadly skill in its use he abundantly supplied us 
with all the partridges that we could eat. We had 
them fried or stewed or roasted, according to the 
exigencies of the time when they were cooked. 

He shot in all thirty-two of these fat and delicious 
birds. In the bagging of this number he missed hitting 
only two ; three got away wounded. One he had to 
use three bullets on, four of them two bullets, and the 
others were killed with a single bullet each. Remark- 
able shooting, indeed, for a man of his years. 

There's a scarcity of bird life in this section which I 
cannot account for. The white-throated sparrow, with 
his plaintive and inimitable song, I frequently heard, 
and what can be sweeter than his peculiar and ever- 
pleasing notes, which always seem to come from places 
where only the deepest solitude reigns. But of other 
songsters I heard not one. 

The woodpeckers, in scant numbers, it is true, were 
there ; the giant among them, the " cock of the woods," 
was often seen. A few sheldrake ducks and three 
black ducks and one bald pate were all of the duck 
family seen. One bunch of ring-necked snipe and one 
grosbeak, with a few yellow-legged snipe, completed the 
list. 

Not a fox did we see on the trip, although we heard 



40 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

some barking at night. Nor were there any muskrats, 
beavers, bears, raccoons, or 'possums seen. And only 
one deer was sighted, a fat buck, which I shot, when 
coming out on the morning of the second day of the 
return trip. 

The second night we made camp at the crossing of a 
brook, Henry and I being under a tent, while the other 
men slept on the ground. With the end of the second 
day's trip we had traveled thirty-three miles from the 
railroad ; and we were all ready to go to sleep, which we 
did before 7 : 30, as the following day's trip was to be 
an especially hard one. 

So, with a big fire in front of the tent, we slept 
soundly and well in spite of the fact that the night was 
cold enough to make ice along the edges of the brook. 



CHAPTER V 
THE LOST LAKES 

Fall many a glorious morning have I seen 
Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye, 

Kissing with golden face the meadows green, 
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy. 

—Sonnet xxxiii. 

The third morning was indeed a glorious one, with 
ice in the buckets and ice along the margins of the 
streams. The sharp, cold tinge in the air gave an 
added spur to the appetite. Breakfast being over, 
Henry started with me to visit a couple of small lakes, 
the farthest of which, he said, was two miles off. Here 
in olden times many moose had their feeding grounds. 
The team was to leave us and go on ahead, while the 
saddle horse was to be left securely tethered to a tree 
until our return. 

The road to the lakes, which will hereafter be called 
the " Lost Lakes," followed a rushing, tumbling stream 
for a mile and then it turned abruptly to the left, and, 
as Henry said, went up to the top of the mountain, 
where the first of the lakes was found, the other one 
being at the top of still another mountain. Many of 
the lakes in this Miramichi country have this peculiarity 
of being at the top of a mountain rather than at its 
base, as I have very good reason to know. 



42 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

Henry trapped on these lakes as far back as thirty 
years ago, but his last trip was over fifteen years since. 
In the meantime his blazed spots on the trees have be- 
come indistinct, and the lumberman has come and cut 
roads first, and then the logs. After these were slid 
down the mountain's side into the brook, he left, and 
did not take his newly-made roads with their blazed 
marks with him. 

So Henry and I trudged up one side of a mountain, 
he looking for his old landmarks, but no lake was to be 
seen. Then we circled around it, crossing bogs, a 
beaver meadow and several windfalls. At last when 
I saw Henry make a spot on each side of a tree I 
knew that he was bewildered, and the locality of the 
lakes would have to be taken on faith, for time would 
not permit of our making a further search. Of course, 
Henry had taken the marks made by the lumbermen 
for his own earlier ones, and so had become bewildered. 

By following first one road and then another, all 
leading to water, we discovered our upward tracks, and 
swiftly followed them back to where we had spent the 
night. 

Our two hours' tramp was fruitful of but one thing, 
the finding of a name for two heretofore nameless lakes 
— the name is " The Lost Lakes." 

We now climbed and crossed a hardwood ridge 
called Kobinson's ridge, from the top of which a mag- 
nificent and widely extended view is to be seen. When 



THE LOST LAKES 43 

the bottom was reached, 011 passing a small piece of 
thick woods near a large expanse of dead-water I 
heard a bull moose make an audible grunt. 

We almost immediately reached " Clear Water 
Camp," where the horses which had preceded us were 
feeding and where dinner was awaiting us. The cook 
said that he had been " blattin " with a moose horn 
and a young spike-horn bull had rushed out of the 
woods and into the water. It was the same fellow 
which I had heard as we passed along but a few 
minutes before. 

We had dinner, and then Henry, the cook and the 
writer started on foot through a five-mile portage, as 
they called it, being the last stage of the land part of 
our journey. I noticed here the first caribou tracks I 
had seen since 1898. 

I mentioned that fact to Henry, and he said that the 
previous season one of his " sports," walking ahead of 
three others, came across four caribou feeding. He ran 
back within hailing distance and holding up his hand 
and counting the four fingers, he shouted : 

" I've seen four big animals, but they're not moose 
and not deer. Shall I shoot ? " 

" Yes," came back the reply, but when he returned, 
of course, they were gone, and he was much chopfallen 
that they had not waited for him to get a shot. It is 
said that no animal can run faster than the caribou. 

Many years ago, when these rather queer animals 



44 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

were quite plentiful in Maine, once during the winter, 
when the lakes were frozen nearly solid, a herd of cari- 
bou was discovered upon a lake, and a man who had a 
pair of imported greyhounds put them on the chase of 
these fleet-footed members of the reindeer tribe. The 
story goes that the caribou paid little attention to the 
greyhounds at first, but when they let themselves out 
they went so fast that the hounds seemed to be only 
walking, alongside of them in their running. And the 
dogs gave up very soon, looking disheartened and much 
crestfallen. 

This portage, which we crossed, is perhaps eighty 
feet wide and is grown up with hackmatack bushes, 
alders and wild cranberry vines. It must have been a 
paradise for game at one time, although now there are 
few signs of any sort of game upon it. 

A monster hawk flew ahead of us nearly all the way, 
alighting occasionally upon a high tree and waiting 
until we were nearly up to it, then flying ahead again. 

It was undoubtedly looking for something for dinner, 
perhaps a young partridge was its cherished wish, or it 
might have been a half-grown rabbit. Either of them, 
no doubt, would have been welcome. 

When our walk was finished we entered a canoe on 
the waters of the Big Southwest Miramichi Lake, on 
the other side of which was Henry's " home camp," the 
objective point of our trip and forty-five miles from 
the railroad. 



THE LOST LAKES 45 

"We had not proceeded far when a canoe approached, 
in which were two men and two women. One of the 
latter hailed us and asked if our cook, who was with us 
in the canoe, would accept service of subpoena to attend 
a hearing in Fredericton on October 8th. He told her 
he would, and she gave him the legal paper and nine 
dollars for his mileage charges, and without further 
ado she went on her way in the canoe to serve more 
men with similar papers. 

This is a queer country in some respects, where a 
woman, and she the wife of the defendant, is permitted 
to serve legal papers. Neither may a hunting party 
start out from or arrive at a settlement in which there is 
a church on Sunday without danger of fine or imprison- 
ment. A teamster may drive to his own home in the 
settlement, but he must leave his party at its outer edge. 

We met a theatrical troupe en route for a small town 
in the interior, and they related their trials in getting 
out of a town in which they had been playing. It took 
a special permit from the chief of police before their seven 
trunks could be removed from their hotel upon a Sunday, 
in time to catch an early morning train on a Monday. 

We now paddled to a dam at the foot of the lake, 
where we waited the arrival of the horses, as we were 
considerably ahead of them. 

Here I was introduced to a retired colonel of the 
British army, a Scotchman, of whom I will write more 
particularly later on. He had been " in " thirty-three 



46 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

days, and was going out the next morning without a 
moose, although his trip all the way from Scotland 
had been expressly for the purpose of getting one. 
Our team and saddle horse would be used by him on 
their return trip. 

What a lure the pursuit of game is to most of the 
inhabitants of the British Isles. Their forebears must 
have lived by the chase solely, to have implanted in 
them an instinct so strong as to make men of great 
affairs, noblemen, business men and others, come over 
3,000 miles, and then subject themselves to great hard- 
ship and exposure, simply to satisfy that inbred desire 
for sport. 

In Fredericton I met an Irish peer who had just 
come " out " from a trip up the Tobique Eiver and 
down the Nipisquit, and his sole motive was to fish for 
trout. He was to go " in " again the next day after 
moose. As I had been over his whole route of the 
Tobique and part of his Nipisquit route, we had a very 
pleasant and interesting talk in comparing experiences. 
He was quite democratic in his manners, putting on no 
airs whatever. 

The team arrived at 5 p. m. "We changed our 
dunnage from the wagon to the canoe, paid off the 
teamsters, and, after a canoe trip of four miles across 
the lake, we arrived at the " home camp," tired, but 
glad that we were home at last and were soon to be in 
sight of big game. 



CHAPTER VI 

THE OLD SCOTCH COLONEL 

"Am starved for meat, giddy for lack of sleep.'' 

— Taming of the Shrew. 

The old Scotch colonel mentioned in the preceding 
chapter was a tall, military-looking man, six feet two 
inches in height. He was about seventy years of age 
and had reached that period when he couldn't remember 
names very well. He had a habit of repeating his 
sentences once and sometimes twice. During his serv- 
ice in the British army he had resided in India for 
twenty years. The following monologue is reproduced 
as nearly as I can remember it. 

I am really glad to meet you, indeed. I beg your 
pardon. What is your name, again? I'm quite for- 
getful, as to names, but I never forget a face. Mr. 
Martindale. Yes, Henry Braithwaite has spoken much 
about you to me. 

And so you're coming after moose ? Well, I've been 
here thirty-three days, and I go back to Scotland, 
whence I came especially to hunt moose — I say es- 
pecially to hunt moose — without one. But instead I 
carry back a disordered stomach. 

My God ! Mr. — I beg your pardon again — oh, yes, 



48 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

Martindale. My God ! Mr. Martindale, I carry back 
a disordered stomach. 

You see, it was salted ham, fried potatoes — fried in 
grease, sir, fried in. grease — with a stray can of toma- 
toes — a stray can, sir, and tinned pork and beans. 
And dirty, slovenly cooking — excuse me, but I must 
say it. Henry is all right, but damn that cook. 

I shot three partridges and they helped out a bit, just 
a bit, sir ; an' if it hadn't been that I brought my own 
good Scotch oatmeal with me from Scotland — from 
Scotland, sir — and a tin of roast beef, and some red 
pickled cabbage — two jars of it, sir — and some Scotch 
oat cakes, sir, I certainly would have starved. Yes, sir, 
I would have starved. 

Did you ever shoot a moose ? I'm glad to hear it, 
sir. I had three chances. The first time I was other- 
wise occupied, sir, and I didn't fire until he was gone. 
The second time he — the moose — was otherwise oc- 
cupied, sir, and I couldn't take advantage of him at a 
time like that. So I waited for him, and, sir, he sud- 
denly left. And the third time my guide said the 
moose was two hundred and fifty yards away, and I 
sighted at two hundred and fifty, but the bullet fell shy, 
and the moose was off. But I got three partridges. 

Did you ever shoot a tiger ? No ? I've shot twenty 
of them, and out in the open, too. And leopards over 
a hundred. And an elephant and a hartbeest and 
giraffes. But I would na shoot a zebra. 



THE OLD SCOTCH COLONEL 49 

And in all my shooting I was never charged, sir, but 
once, and that was by a male ostrich, sir. Yes, sir, a 
male ostrich. They'll always charge ye, sir. 

Yes, I killed a hippo, too, and came near getting a 
shot at a rhino. 

I do hope, Mr. — I beg your pardon again — oh, yes, Mr. 
Martindale, I do hope your president, of whom I think 
a great deal, will come back from Africa safe. Did 
you ever meet him ? You did, and talked with him ? 
On hunting, too ? Give me your hand, sir. I want to 
shake hands with any man who knows the president 
personally. 

Do you think he's brave enough to go to Africa ? 
You say that his charge at the head of the Bough 
Eiders at San Juan was the whole thing of the war. 
But, man, that was nothing. One British regiment 
could have swept the whole kit of them Spaniards off 
the island. We did not do that with the Boers ? Yes, 
but the Boers could shoot and fight, too — yes, sir, and 
fight, too — but them Spaniards they were away from 
home, sir, and they had no very good treatment, either, 
an' perhaps, sir, they were homesick. But anyway, 
one English regiment would have swept them into the 
sea, sir. 

There's one thing I do not like the president for— if 
you'll forgive me for saying it ; he has too many pic- 
tures taken. You say the Emperor William has fifty to 
his one ? But, sir, he's a fool — he's a fool, sir — a 



S o WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

bundle of eccentricities, sir ; he is that. One day he 
paints a picture, another he preaches a sermon, another 
he offers up a public prayer, and another he conducts a 
regimental band, sir. Yes, sir, he's a queer fellow, but 
ah, man, he's a grand shot — he's that indeed, man. 

But now as to your president. He has his picture 
taken jumping a six-barred gate and riding to hounds 
and riding at the head of a lot of men on a mountain 
lion trip and lots of other outdoor excursions. But, sir, 
he and our king are the two great men of the age. 
Although I think your president is a more forceful 
man, our king, now that he has come to his own, is a 
wonderful diplomatist. He's done more for the peace 
of the world than all the kings and queens of the last 
fifty years have done. 

But perhaps ye'll see the president before he goes to 
Africa — before he goes to Africa — and tell him, if you 
do, that he must not drink the water at all in Africa. 
It's nothing but damned mud, sir ; boiled or raw, it's 
all the same. Tell him to take bottled water, sir; 
bottled water, and drink nothing else. 

I had the black fever, sir, and the sleeping sickness, 
where every other victim dies, — every other victim dies, 
sir,— but, thank God, I was spared. But I've never 
been the same man since, sir, and I wouldn't have any- 
thing to happen your grand president, sir. So be sure 
and tell him not to touch the damned water, sir. 

What rifle do you shoot, a 45-90 ? What's that ? 




Copyright, 1905, by C. H. Graves 

Digging His Own Grave 



See page 87 



THE OLD SCOTCH COLONEL 51 

A Hocksie bullet. How do you spell it ? H-o-x-s-i-e. 
What does it mean? Oh, it's the man's name — the 
maker's name. Do you think I ought to take some 
home to Scotland? You do? How many should I 
take ? But, man, we've got nothing to shoot at with 
the rifle. Kabbits and hares ? Well, yes ; but ye 
canna shoot them with the rifle runnin'. 

Will you not take a drop of Scotch, Mr. — Mr. — I 
beg your pardon again. Yes, yes, I remember it now. 

What ! Ye do not drink ? Ye'll excuse me, my 
eyesight is not verra good, but I thought by your looks 
that you were perhaps a bit of a hard drinker. 

Can ye tell me when the Mauretania sails ? She was 
held up two days by a fog inside of Sandy Hook? 
Well, but I can get her sister ship, can I not ? 

I'm glad of that. Oh, yes, I'm coming back again to 
hunt moose next fall, but, mind you, I'll no hae that 
cook, because every time I think of him I say to my- 
sel' : " Damn that cook ! Damn that cook ! " an' I 
canna help it, sir, either. 

And I'm to ride your horse back, sir, on the three 
days' journey ? My God ! man, but I'll be stiff and 
sore when I'm through with him. And it's raining, 
too, to start off with. Yes, I had lots of riding in 
India. 

You may say I was twenty years in the saddle, sir ; 
twenty years in the saddle. But then my digestion 
was good — I could eat anything without its giving me 



5 2 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

heartburn. But, damn that cook, I'm going back to 
Scotland with a ruined stomach, a ruined stomach, sir. 

Well, good-bye, good-bye ; I'll hope to see you here 
again next fall. 

Yes, sir ; yes, sir, I'll be back again, sure. Good-bye. 



CHAPTER VII 

A SOLITARY DISCIPLE OF BACCHUS 

"That quaffing and drinking will undo you." 

— Twelfth Night. 

HenPwY Braithwaite's home camp is situated on 
the shore of the Big Southwest Miramichi Lake. It is 
fifty-three miles from the railroad and forty-five miles 
from a settlement. This camp is used largely as a dis- 
tributing camp. Here are stored provisions for camps 
that are scattered far and near on many lakes and 
" dead-waters." 

Hanging from its walls are all manner of traps, for 
" Uncle Henry " is a trapper as well as a guide and 
owner of camps. There are three rooms or buildings 
— one used as a kitchen, dining-room and sleeping-room 
for the guides, one as a storage-room, where three bear- 
skins were hanging, and the third as a reading- writing- 
and sleeping-room for the " sports." Two beds, each 
capable of " sleeping " three men, a big stove, a big 
bench or table, a wash-trough and another table com- 
pleted the furnishing of the room. 

Here the only occupant when I arrived was a big, 
morose and taciturn man, who kept upon the table an 
open bottle of whiskey, of which he drank as often 
as four times an hour. This man, whom I'll 



54 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

call Glade, just because that is not his name, had 
been " in " some thirty days. He had got his moose, 
and was now waiting for a friend of his to come back 
from another camp, where he had also been for thirty 
days, but without getting a moose. Glade was, there- 
fore, " killing time," truly a noble employment for a 
man weighing some two hundred and fifty pounds and 
possessed of much of this world's wealth. 

I naturally supposed that he would want the news of 
the outside world, and so I told him of lively events 
in the presidential campaign then going on, but he 
made no passing comment. Even the exciting struggle 
for leadership in the two great baseball leagues gave 
him no pleasure, and so I gave up trying to make my- 
self agreeable to a man who showed by the number of 
empty whiskey bottles lying around that his present in- 
terest in life was merely to satisfy his appetite for 
a strong stimulant. 

We had a fine supper, cooked and served by John, a 
bright-witted chap, who was dressed in white cap, 
jacket and trousers. We had cold roast moose meat, 
with onions, baked beans, apple sauce, baked potatoes 
and flannel cakes. A few stories were told by the men, 
and then I turned in for the night at eight o'clock, glad 
that the rough and exciting journey of forty-five miles 
" in " was over. 

During the night the rain once more deluged the yet 
thirsty earth, and at daylight its downcoming was un- 



A SOLITARY DISCIPLE OF BACCHUS 55 

diminished in volume or force. Glade said, " You'll 
surely not start out on a morning like this." 

" But I surely will," 1 answered him, " provided 
Henry says so." 

After breakfast a guide appeared, who was to carry 
in a pack containing blankets and some supplies, and 
Henry and the guide and I took the trail for Moccasin 
Lake, four miles away. 

The road was uniformly upgrade. Many moose 
tracks were seen, but the downpouring rain made it 
impossible to tell whether they were " fresh " or not. 
However, Henry decided to rest under the shelter of a 
big rock, and make one or two moose calls, for to his 
keen eye the signs he had noted warranted a trial call 
at any rate. Getting no response to the moose horn 
greetings, the journey was resumed without anything 
of further interest excepting that Henry shot three 
partridges on the way with the .22 calibre rifle. When 
the camp was reached we were surprised to see a big 
fire burning in the stove, and two men in front of the 
fire. There were no courteous greetings between them 
and my party. They had nothing to say, and after 
waiting a few minutes more by the stove they went 
outside, stopped a moment at the door, said, " Good- 
bye," and both of them departed without further ado. 

They were guides belonging to a man who had re- 
cently inaugurated a rival business to Henry's — a man 
whom Henry had guided in former years. There was 



56 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

much ill-feeling between the two men and their guides, 
with charges and countercharges, and that stage had 
now been reached where subpoenas were to be served 
upon some of Henry's guides. Our companions con- 
jectured that the visit of these two men was to find a 
certain guide to serve such a legal document upon. 

Afterward, in the afternoon, we came across their 
tracks leading from another camp to this one. This 
visit of theirs, it may be easily inferred, caused much 
talk and comment. 

After dinner the rain subsided somewhat and we 
went down to the lake a few yards from the cabin and 
entered a rather rudely built pirogue, fashioned out 
of a big pine log. As the log was partly rotten at one 
end, it had been neatly mended by stretching a piece of 
canvas over the decayed part, to prevent the water from 
running in. 

We made a circuit of the lake and in one corner 
Henry heard a cow moose call. We landed near by 
and made a careful search of a portion of the woods, 
but found no signs of the cow, or, what would have 
been more to our fancy, of a bull. 

We did see, however, the skeleton of a moose lying 
along the roadside, which Henry said had been wan- 
tonly killed in the previous July by a man who wanted 
to test a new rifle and to whose mind there was noth- 
ing like a living animal, and the bigger the better for 
this purpose. 



A SOLITARY DISCIPLE OF BACCHUS 57 

Leaving the pirogue, we journeyed up-hill over a bad 
road to a set of abandoned lumber camps, in one of 
which a lot of supplies was stored. This camp was 
chained and barred with many protections against bur- 
glars, because, before the place had been thus made se- 
cure, four barrels of flour, a chest of tea and a barrel 
of sugar had been stolen from it. The flour that 
remained, together with sundry barrels of pork, beans 
and molasses, might not now be of much service when 
used, as the stuff had lain there over two years. 

Next we came to a dam, beyond which was a fine 
stretch of dead-water. Half a mile above, in this shel- 
tered water, we saw a moose feeding. Bringing a 
pair of glasses to bear upon the animal, we discovered 
that it was a bull, feeding upon the bottom of the 
stream. He would thrust his head down under the 
water to eat of the grasses or lily roots, and when he 
raised his head a great swish of water would be 
splashed about from his antlers. 

The wind, unfortunately, was blowing from us, di- 
rectly toward him. Hastily we climbed a ridge to the 
left, in order to get around him, but the air, tainted 
with the scent of human beings, had already reached 
him. We saw his mane go up ; saw him scramble out 
of the water to the bank, and away he went without 
even taking time to shake the water from himself. 

He could not have seen us from w T here he was, but 
he might, in additioa to the scent, have heard a branch 



58 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

break and the senses of hearing and of smell were 
enough to steer him out of danger. 

A visit was next made to a small lake on the other 
side of the ridge. No signs being seen of moose, either 
of fresh tracks or of roily water, we returned to the 
dam and made a trip up along the left bank of the 
dead-water, opposite to the place where the moose went 
in, but saw no further evidences of these elusive 
animals. 

Returning to the lumber camp, Henry shot two more 
partridges, and we trudged back to camp, arriving 
there just at dark. 

Our wet clothes were now hung up to dry on a lat- 
ticework above a big, hot camp stove. Dry clothes 
were put on and a supper of roast partridge, baked 
potatoes and stewed prunes was eaten. At eight 
o'clock we turned in and went to sleep to the lullaby 
of the falling rain pattering on the cedar splint roof 
and to the occasional hooting of an owl or the sharp 
barking of a fox. 



CHAPTER VIII 

A FAMOUS PERIBONCA PORTAGE 

"I mean, the fashion — yes, the fashion is the fashion." 

— Much Ado About Nothing. 

Gober Lake, New Brunswick, is called after a mur- 
derer by that name, but the explanation is made that 
the murder was not committed until fifteen years after 
it was so christened. Then the aforesaid Gober shot a 
man and killed him, for which crime he was imprisoned 
for one month, this light sentence being on account of 
some extenuating circumstances. 

Gober, perhaps thirty years ago, came into the wilds 
upon hunting bent, and under the guiding hand of 
Henry Braithwaite, he finally reached the lake now 
named after him, and, casually asking Henry how far 
he was then from his home in southern New Bruns- 
wick, he was so startled and frightened when told that 
he was over one hundred miles into the wilderness that 
he there and then insisted upon turning back to civili- 
zation, and hunting had no further lure for him. 

We left Moccasin Lake very early in the morning, 
en route for Gober Lake. The road led over a good 
pathway through the woods to Birch Lake. On the 
way fresh tracks of two men, one wearing rubber boots 
and the other moccasins, were found in the path lead- 



60 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

ing toward the camp which we had just left. The 
guides at once identified the tracks as having been 
made by the two men whom we found in that camp 
upon our arrival there. 

On reaching Birch Lake, two freshly cut logs were 
found in the water, tied together with pieces of rope, 
on which rude but safe raft they had crossed the lake 
the day before. For our crossing we had a pirogue or 
dugout, which carried the three of us and our outfit 
without any trouble. There was quite a portage over 
a ridge, in crossing which Henry shot three more par- 
tridges. I don't know how it came about, but in cross- 
ing this steep portage I could not but think of a famous 
portage — a three days' journey up the Peribonca River, 
which flows into Lake St. John, Quebec, from the north 
— which I crossed in 1893. 

The Peribonca River is nearly three-fourths of a 
mile wide at its mouth. It runs through a strata of 
Laurentian rock and is bordered on both sides — or was 
then — by a dense forest of spruce and white birch 
trees. No houses grace its banks and no roads afford 
facilities for walking. The river is the sole avenue of 
communication between the lake and its headwaters, 
nearly five hundred miles away. The river narrows 
frequently to a width of say sixty feet, because of ob- 
structions from projecting ledges of rock on both sides. 

At this particular portage, which is on the left-hand 
side of the stream going up, the rock rises above the 



A FAMOUS PERIBONCA PORTAGE 61 

water with a very sharp pitch a distance of perhaps 
forty feet, and it takes careful footing to reach the 
summit if you have any load to carry. We had four 
Indian guides, only one of whom could speak any Eng- 
lish. They belonged to the Montagnies tribe. They 
were splendid canoemen, and well-behaved and willing 
workers. 

When this portage was reached I noted that the 
Indians, for the first time on the trip, were smiling to 
each other, and that they talked a little, although they 
were usually very taciturn. I inquired of " Charley," 
the spokesman of the bunch, what they were smiling 
at, and obtained from him the story of the following 
incident : 

At the very headwaters of the Peribonca Eiver lived 
a trapper, small in stature himself, but with a big, 
buxom wife. It was his custom to come down the 
river in the balmy month of June accompanied by his 
stout wife, his canoes loaded with furs, the result of 
the previous season's catch. 

From Lake St. John, by the Saguenay Eiver, the 
journey was continued to Quebec. Here the furs were 
sold and supplies purchased for the coming winter, and 
after a fortnight spent in the quaint old city the return 
was made. So it happened that but two months and a 
half before our trip this same bunch of Indians had 
convoyed this pair to their home in the far-off north- 
land. While in Quebec the good dame had looked 



62 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

with longing eyes upon many gorgeous hats and had 
finally purchased two of the very latest fashion to take 
with her to her distant home, where they were the only 
settlers in a vast region on the border of the Arctic circle. 

As each of the hats was packed in a separate band- 
box, they were a constant source of care and worry at 
every portage. 

These precious examples of the then latest fashions 
in millinery were not to be touched by any one but the 
future wearer. She alone would carry them around 
the obstructions and across the portages. "When this 
particular slanting rock was reached, all the stores, 
tents, bedding, etc., in the canoes were landed at the 
base of the rock, while the Indians carried the canoes 
on their backs up the face of the rock and then around 
it, placing them in a quiet stretch of water above. 
Then the freight was carried over. 

Next the trapper and his stout wife essayed the 
rather dangerous climb. The woman insisted upon 
carrying the two band boxes containing the hats her- 
self, and, with one in each hand, she very carefully 
crawled up the steep ascent. 

There was quite a wind blowing, which banged the 
hat boxes around in a rude fashion, but all went well 
until the summit was nearly reached, and there the 
full force of the wind struck her and the bulky but 
light- weighted freight in front with such force that she 
reeled, tottered, and then fell. 




Copyright, 1905, by C. H. Graves 

The Liberated Moose 



See page 



A FAMOUS PERIBONCA PORTAGE 63 

Backward she went, turning heels over head, and 
making several complete somersaults, but still holding on 
to her precious burden with both hands. She was soon 
landed in the cold and swift-running waters at the 
base of the cliff, and here she was compelled to let go 
of the hat boxes, which floated down-stream as if in 
a mill-race. First the woman was fished out of the 
water, but not without serious trouble, and then a 
canoe was paddled down-stream after the hats, and 
they, when recovered and opened to the buxom dame's 
view, were found uninjured. Her wet and bedraggled 
condition was at once forgotten in the joy of this happy 
deliverance, and tears soon gave way to smiles. Now 
she was quite content to allow the head-gear to be 
" toted up " by the Indians. 

But now to Gober Lake. After crossing the ridge 
we came to a stretch of dead-water, and, entering an- 
other pirogue, we came to a series of small falls, which 
we poled up, and a mile further on Gober Lake Camp 
was reached. There are two buildings : one for the 
guides to sleep in and also to be used as a kitchen and 
dining-room, and the other for the " sport's " sitting- 
room and bed-room. 

After lunch Henry led the way to a canoe-landing 
on the lake, where we entered a birch-bark canoe, 
rather the worse for wear, and in face of a strong head 
wind we paddled across the lake. Leaving the canoe 
at the far side, we leisurely made our way through 



64 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

some boggy ground, along the banks of a small stream 
leading toward a ridge called the Caribou Barren. 

On the far side of the stream about forty yards away 
a large cow moose, that had been lying down among 
a lot of tall grass, jumped up and, with mane erect, 
started for the woods as fast as she could travel. She 
had winded us, which accounted for her alarm. Henry 
gave a low call on his moose horn to see if she was 
accompanied by a bull, but as none appeared, we con- 
cluded that the cow was an " old maid/' 

We climbed the sides and ascended to the top of the 
Caribou ridge. Here Ave found a maze of caribou run- 
ways, but not a single fresh track. The bleached skull 
of a cow, with two little antlers, was lying on the 
summit, while a good-sized skeleton of a bull, with 
good antlers, lay whitening in the sun a few yards off. 
We tramped the barren in every direction, but saw 
nothing of animal life. 

Keturning to the canoe, I found that my hunting- 
knife had been lost somewhere on the barren. We 
went back a half mile or so, but couldn't find it. Two 
days later another trip was made to the barren, and 
again no fresh tracks and no hunting-knife. 

On the trip back to the camp we explored a deep 
cove with a lonely piece of dead-water leading to it. 
We had felt confident that there some fresh tracks 
would be discovered. We saw plenty of old ones, but 
of fresh tracks, not one. A female hooded merganser 



A FAMOUS PERIBONCA PORTAGE 65 

swam about in the cove all alone, and she allowed us 
to come within a few yards of her without getting at 
all scared. 

From all that we could see there must have been a 
recent migration of both caribou and moose from this 
locality. There were any number of runways down to 
the water, but no fresh signs of feeding or of wading 
on the part of either of these species. Henry was at 
a loss to account for this absence of big game except 
by attributing it to the doings of a man, who, it was 
said, in clear defiance of the game laws, had been 
hunting at night with a large acetylene lamp fastened 
to the bow of his canoe. If this was the case, the 
bright glare of the light, together with its smell, would 
frighten the big game into almost a frenzy of fear, and 
it doesn't take very long for them to quit a territory 
so abused, and to make off to feeding grounds where 
they will be left undisturbed in the strict solitude 
which they so dearly love. 

While we were at this camp we were fortunate in 
seeing some glorious displays of the northern lights — 
aurora borealis — which lasted for nearly an hour one 
night, and twenty-five minutes the following night. 
In the clear, pure air the display was so beautiful that 
we watched it with almost breathless attention until it 
disappeared as swiftly as it had come. 

In early November Henry expected to have, as oc- 
cupants of this camp for a month's hunting, a young 



66 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

man and his wife from New York, who had been hunt- 
ing with him the previous year. The husband is a 
newspaper man of noted ability and influence in the 
metropolis, being a son of one of the chief newspaper 
publishers in that big city. 

Of his wife, every one who had seen her had the 
same story to tell. She was a fine woman, courteous 
and kind to all, patient and uncomplaining under the 
most trying weather conditions, with an overflowing 
stock of enthusiasm, and possessed of an athletic figure 
that the goddess Diana herself might envy. The guides 
said that she was slightly over six feet tall and weighed 
one hundred and seventy pounds. Upon her last trip 
she walked all the way out to the settlement — forty- 
five miles — and arrived there in good condition. 

This woman is of gentle birth, is highly educated, 
and cuts quite a sweep in the fashionable world when 
at home. So no wonder that with all her varied ac- 
complishments she should. set the guides and " sports" 
who have met her here — where nature is not always 
kind, but often very rude and rough — as if with one 
voice to sing her praises. 



CHAPTER IX 

MISSING A BIG MOOSE AT THIRTY YARDS 

" But look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, 
Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill." 

— Hamlet. 

At first break of day we were up and doing at the 
Gober Lake Camp. A discussion was in progress be- 
tween Uncle Henry and the cook when I joined them 
as to how far it was to Crichton Lake. This is a body 
of water which nestles in the very crest of a high moun- 
tain, the base of which rubbed close up to our lodging. 
Both agreed as to the distance, if the mountain were to 
be attacked from the front, but Henry wanted to take 
it in the rear. As near as I could make it out from their 
talk, the journey there and back would be twelve miles, 
but it might be stretched out to sixteen miles by some 
contemplated diversions from the roundabout way in 
order to visit one or more dead-waters. 

We got away bright and early. The route lay along 
a spotted trail for three miles or so until an old logging 
road was reached. This road hadn't been used for ever 
so many years, and, of course, it was grown up with 
many obstructions — deadfalls, alders, cedars and young 
firs. The road was cautiously followed. "We made the 
least possible noise, stopping frequently to listen and 
then putting our feet down lightly, being careful not to 



68 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

break any twigs or branches. We would tiptoe along 
for a half mile or more ; then sit clown and listen for 
several minutes. 

We saw no fresh tracks of any kind. When the road 
reached the bottom of the decline, we found an exten- 
sive " dead-water." 

Eow the day had become really hot, and, as for my- 
self, my clothes were wringing wet with perspiration, 
while Uncle Henry was mopping his face at times quite 
vigorously. 

We explored the dead-water for signs on both sides, 
but found none. Then we sat down and rested for maybe 
half an hour, during which time Uncle Henry made a 
few " calls " on the birch-bark horn. 

Our route was now changed to one at right angles to 
the road we had been following. This road led close 
along the brook which formed the dead-water ; conse- 
quently it was wet and in places quite muddy, while the 
everlasting alders could not well grow any thicker than 
they grew in those bottoms. 

An hour's walk under these conditions showed us no 
fresh tracks, until we arrived at a spot where a brook 
came down from the mountain, which we were to climb 
from the rear, and entered the stream that we had been 
following. 

Here we saw the very fresh track of a bull moose, 
and a short distance further on we noted that he had 
been polishing his antlers upon some alders. With one 



MISSING A BIG MOOSE 69 

of these bushes a blade of his antlers had, in some way, 
gotten tangled up, so that the animal had pulled it up 
by the roots and carried it quite a distance before he 
could get rid of it. 

The tracks were so fresh as to assure us that the noble 
game had passed ahead of us only an hour or so before 
our arrival. 

It was now high time for something to eat, and we 
sat down close to a lively spring, ate our lunch and 
washed it down with the delicious spring water that 
bubbled up close by our seat. 

Now came the climb, the real work of the day. The 
incline was quite gradual at first, then it became sharper, 
and as the road followed the brook, which was gener- 
ally rushing down the hill at a good pitch, with here and 
there a little stretch of quiet water, it behooved us to 
advance carefully, looking into each covert before we 
passed it. We searched the ground eagerly for the 
tracks, which had now disappeared from the road. Up 
and up we climbed, and between the heat and the exer- 
tion, and the high altitude which we were attaining, my 
tongue was hanging out — a signal of distress — at every 
stop, and truly I had " bellows to mend." 

Uncle Henry, however, showed no signs of trouble, 
but jogged along quietly and steadily. After what 
seemed to me a never-ending climb, Henry left the 
brook, and made a sharp turn to the right, telling me 
that he was aiming to make a short cut to a big dead-wa- 



7 o WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

ter, that we should find but a little distance below the 
outlet of the lake, which we were then struggling to 
reach. 

It was now an ascent up a sharp and stiff knob of the 
mountain, and following a spotted trail, which led right 
away from the brook. "When the summit of this eleva- 
tion was attained we swung to the left a little, and then 
the path led down-hill until alders again were seen, 
and surely we were now about to reach water again, be- 
cause one does not find alders unless he is near to water. 

Henry went ahead and stepped very gingerly, parting 
the alders as silently as possible, so that we could wrig- 
gle through without either breaking them or allowing 
them to slap back. What a protecting shield this ple- 
beian growth of alders is to all animals of the deer 
tribe. The moose always seems to prefer to be sur- 
rounded by them to anything else in the wilderness. 

These bushes at such a time and after such a journey 
as we had been making were tantalizingly difficult to 
get through without breaking the stillness which always 
pertains to the sanctuary of the moose. However, my 
labored breathing was certainly making more sound- 
waves than our feet. When Henry gently parted the 
last of the bushes Avhich formed the fringe screening 
the water from our view, without any excitement or 
emotion whatever, after taking a glance out into the 
open, he motioned me with one hand to come up to 
him, while he held the bushes back with the other. 



MISSING A BIG MOOSE 71 

Now, I must say that at this point I was about " all 
in " from the exertion of the long-continued climb, as 
well as from the heat and the high altitude. At his 
signal I made a quick step forward, and, not looking at 
where I was stepping, my foot crushed and snapped a 
small twig. Then the opening was reached, the curtain 
of alders was raised, and Henry simply said : " There's 
your moose ! " 

The noise of the breaking twig had warned him that 
something was wrong, and he had just commenced to 
swing around when I first saw him. He was standing 
among some high grass and reeds, broadside on, not 
farther away than the width of a street. His head was 
crowned with a freak set of antlers, having a fairly wide 
spread, with very narrow blades, both ends of the ant- 
lers being somewhat like a man's open hands, with the 
fingers of the hands representing the points. 

He appeared to be a sturdy young bull in good con- 
dition, for his hide was sleek and glossy, while his legs 
from the knee-joints down were strikingly white. 

All of this was noted at a glance and before even 
raising the rifle to shoot. There was no time to be lost, 
however. I aimed as well as my breathing apparatus 
would permit for the point behind his left shoulder, 
which was an easy, and ought to have been a fatal, 
shot, as he swung around. 

He didn't stop, or fall, or jump, or give any sign that 
he was hit ; so, pumping another cartridge into the bar- 



72 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

rel before he had completely turned, I next fired what 
should have been a raking shot, striking him on the left 
hind quarter. But alas ! It didn't strike, and, there- 
fore, didn't " rake." Another and yet another bullet 
was fired after he got going, and then he crashed 
through the alders, and disappeared, as if by magic. 

His route led over a bit of hard, firm ground as soon 
as the alders were left. 

When the shooting was over Uncle Henry asked, 
" Did you hit him ? " 

" Why, surely I must have hit him. How could I 
miss ? " 

" Well, your first bullet cut a handful of hair from the 
back of his neck," Henry said. 

We followed his tracks far enough to show that I had 
made a complete miss with each of the four shots. I 
could not be made to believe this at first, and I insisted 
upon following the tracks up to the top of the ridge, 
but alas ! and yet alas ! it was indeed too true. 

My first thoughts were not for myself in the deep 
chagrin which I felt at this unlooked-for and ignomini- 
ous failure ; but they were of Henry. What would he 
think after all his care, his skill and his planning in get- 
ting me up as close to the moose as any man could wish 
for? 

" Give your thoughts no tongue, Uncle Henry," I said ; 
" for really I do not care for myself in this matter, but 
for you." 



MISSING A BIG MOOSE 73 

" Oh, don't think of that, 1 ' said the dear old fellow ; 
" that moose alive is worth $200 to me, for some other 
fellow to shoot at. And don't fret yourself ; I've had 
men come to me from ten times the distance that you 
have come, and famous shots they were, too, and just 
such a thing has happened to them. So come along 
to the lake itself and let's see how things look there." 

It must be remembered that the moose was feeding 
in the dead-water below the outlet of the lake. "When 
the shore of the lake was found we looked up and down 
its length and breadth, examined the soft places for 
tracks, but found none, and then we circled round its 
upper end. 

Here we saw the skeleton of a bull moose lying in the 
water, which had been killed a couple of weeks before 
by one of Henry's " sports." The head, of course, had 
been taken away, while the hide was left stretched out 
upon a frame made of poles. There being no canoe on 
the lake, it had been necessary for the men to build a 
catamaran with which to get to where he fell in the 
water. 

There was a smaller lake about a mile away from 
Crichton Lake, and at a lower elevation, for, as has been 
said before, Crichton Lake is at the very apex of the 
mountain. For this small lake we wended our way. 
Arriving there, we found no signs of moose, fresh or 
old, and, therefore, without loss of time we turned our 
steps toward the camp. 



74 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

Now, the path was down and down, and seemingly 
ever down. We hurried as much as was consistent with 
safety, for the chill of a cold, clear night had settled upon 
us. It was dark when the friendly light of Gober Lake 
Camp was seen. 

It may easily be imagined that I was not by any 
means cheerful as I sat down to the evening meal. 
Tired — very tired — in truth I was, yet I've been as 
weary before, and still have been " cheery, blithe and 
bonnie." 

Hamlet's sage statement, " There's a special Provi- 
dence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, tis not to 
come ; if it be not to come, it will be now ; if it be not 
now, yet it will come," came to mind as illustrating the 
glorious uncertainty of hunting, when the unexpected 
always happens. 

I was so sure when the trigger of the 45-90 rifle was 
first pulled that the big quarry would fall that I should 
have wagered the whole cost of the trip upon it, and yet, 
with four times one shot, that he still went off unscathed 
was so totally unexpected that it was really hard to 
realize. 

But " Truth is mighty and must prevail," and noth- 
ing need be said more than that. 



CHAPTER X 

THE WISDOM OF THE CROW 

"For raging wind blows up incessant showers, 
And when the rage allays, the rain begins." 

— Henry VI. 

The day following the Oichton Lake fiasco Henry- 
decided that we should explore a long and famous dead- 
water of the southwest branch of the Miramichi River, 
a dead-water with many turnings, many rocky rifts and 
many wide, smooth expanses. 

We had not gone more than a couple of miles down 
the stream before a wind sprang up, blowing directly 
from us. This, of course, would be fatal to our chances 
for game, and, therefore, a halt was made in a sheltered 
cove. There I had a good rest of an hour from the 
fierce exertions of the previous day. 

The wind did not subside, as we had expected, and 
we turned back. In places where our canoe had shot 
like a duck through bits of quick water on the down 
trip, it was now necessary to get out and lead the canoe 
through. 

On reaching one of the wide stretches of water 
Henry stopped and asked me if I believed in animal 
intelligence. I told him that I did. He then told the 
following story in proof that animals do reason and 
think more than people give them credit for doing. 



76 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

Pointing to a spot behind some sheltered rocks, he 
said : 

" I was over there once in the dead of winter look- 
ing after my traps. I had come up this wide piece of 
water dragging a sled after me through a depth of 
snow which about reached to my knees, and had sat 
down to rest for a few minutes. A band of caribou 
appeared in sight on a line very nearly parallel to the 
one I had made. 

•• My track was soon discovered : then first one bull 
went up to it, looked at it and turned away to think it 
over, then another and another, until four out of the 
nineteen animals in the band had inspected it. 

•■ The cows and calves waited quietly until a decision 
was reached. One of the younger bulls concluded that 
there was no danger in it for him. and he made a few 
steps forward, but none of the others followed him. 
The bull which seemed to me to be the grandfather of 
the bunch made a second inspection. Then he looked 
up and down and crosswise of the ice. and evidently 
made up his mind that to advance meant danger, and 
that safety lay in beating a retreat. 

•' So he marshaled the band, the youngest ones lead- 
ing off. then the cows, and lastly the bulls, he himself 
being last of all. 

" You couldn't call this instinct. It was intelligent 
reasoning that brought them to their right con- 
clusions." 



THE WISDOM OF THE CROW 77 

Henry further related an incident where a bunch of 
crows had come upon some oats that had been spilled 
from a sled on the hard snow. There were nine of 
them. True to their custom, one flew up into a near-by 
tree to act as sentinel. 

" On the far side of the road," said Henry, " there 
were some low bushes, and, happening to see a move- 
ment among them, I watched closely, and soon saw the 
head of^a red fox with his eyes greedily fixed upon the 
feeding birds. Even a crow, at times in the winter, 
must taste good to a fox. 

"Master Keynard crawled silently on his belly 
toward the unsuspecting birds, and I thought the 
sentinel crow in the tree must have gone to sleep. But 
not he, indeed. He waited until the rapacious streak 
of reddish fur was about to be launched like a flash at 
the nearest crow, when ' Caw ! Caw ! Caw ! ' said the 
one on the tree in his quickest and sharpest manner, 
and away the birds flew, leaving the fox in dire chagrin 
at his failure. 

" Then the sentinel crow started to jeer and laugh at 
their common enemy and to berate him with vigor. 
The fox slunk away, and as soon as he was far enough 
for them to be out of danger the sentinel called his 
brethren back, he descending to feed on the oats while 
one of the others took his place as sentry. 

" Wow," said Henry, " that sentinel acted just as if 
he was full of mischief, and wanted to fool the fox and 



78 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

to have a good laugh at his discomfiture when the 
alarm was given. Where is the man, if he had the 
chance under similar circumstances, that wouldn't have 
done the same thing — that is, if he had had as much 
humor in him as the crow had ? 

" My long life in the wilderness and in the woods as 
a trapper has convinced me firmly that not only have 
the animals intelligence, but plants and flowers also 
have intelligence. 

" Did you ever examine the pitcher plant carefully ? 
You did ? Well, you must know that it is a living and 
intelligent trap for spiders, ants, flies, mosquitoes, etc. ; 
that it first catches them and then drowns them, and, 
lastly, devours and digests them. 

" On the hottest summer 'day and in the greatest 
droughts you'll always find the cups of these plants 
half filled with clear cold water — cold, mind you — and 
how they can keep the water cold I know not. The 
various insects enter the cup or trap evidently to drink 
of the water, and when they try to get out they find 
that the inside surface of the cup is lined with a coat- 
ing of little spines or spikes with their short points 
reaching downward. 

" And so to crawl up the sides of the plant being im- 
possible, after struggling with might and main until 
their strength is exhausted, they drop into the water 
and are speedily dissected, the meaty portions being 
devoured, while the wings and antennae are by some un- 




Copyright, 1905, by C. H. Graves 

Leaving the River End of Northeast Carry 

See page 109 



THE WISDOM OF THE CROW 79 

known method made to sink to the bottom and finally 
to be packed tightly in the tube of the root of the 
plant. 

" Talk about the cunning of the tiger and his blood- 
thirstiness ! He does not excel in either of these traits 
the lowly pitcher plant, which you can see by the 
thousands in most of the wilderness bogs of New 
Brunswick and Maine." 

Being this day in a philosophic mood, Henry gradu- 
ally took up the question of creeds, of religious beliefs, 
and of religious practices. In answer to a question as 
to the sect which worshiped in a little church at the 
edge of the settlement which we had to pass through 
just before we reached the railroad, a man had told us 
that it was a union church by name, but in reality it 
was Presbyterian, as the majority of the congregation 
were of that faith. 

The subscriptions for its erection were asked for on 
the broad plea that it was to be a union church and 
that no one sect was to dominate it. One of the lead- 
ing men requested a widow to subscribe to the building 
fund, and she asked him what denomination it was to 
be. He replied that it was to be for all religions but 
the Roman Catholic. 

" Is that so ? " she said. " Well, why not for that, 
too ? Isn't that a religion as much as the Methodist, 
the Presbyterian, the Jewish, or even the Moham- 
medan ? " 



8o WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

To this he could make no adequate reply excepting 
that Catholics were barred. Commenting on this 
Henry — the philosopher of the woods, the man who 
has spent nearly sixty years in studying nature and in 
living so close to her as to be able to interpret her ever- 
varying moods — said : 

" What rank folly it is for men to quarrel with their 
most intimate friends, even with their own families at 
times, on questions of religious doctrine, which, in the 
end, seem only like the splitting of hairs ! How many 
millions of people have been killed because they 
wouldn't worship the God of the Jews in the early 
days of Jewish history ! How many millions more of 
the Jews themselves were killed because they wouldn't 
worship God according to the light of the Gentiles ! 

" How many millions of so-called Christians were 
killed because they did not worship God according to 
the doctrine of the Koran, and the instructions of Mo- 
hammed ! Then look at the millions slain by the Cath- 
olics in their day of strength and the rapine and vio- 
lence shown by the Protestants when their day of 
vengeance arrived. And so on through all the muta- 
tions of human life since the world began. 

" Begging money for churches ; begging money to 
support pastors ; begging money for current expenses 
of churches, which profess to be for the salvation of all 
mankind, excepting for those who do not believe just 
as you do, is not to my liking. 



THE WISDOM Ol? THE CROW 81 

" In days of old if a man dared to say that he didn't 
— couldn't believe — in this or that doctrine, the punish- 
ment might be ' off with his head,' or burn him at the 
stake, or throw him into a dungeon to die like a dog. 

" Ah, yes ; this is a union church, for all sects — 
except the Catholics — and there you see sectarianism 
running rampant. In place of charity such a feeling 
begets jealousy and rancor. In place of love, hatred, 
malignant hatred, is engendered." 

When Henry finished his peroration, I thought of 
the language of Dr. William Cunningham Gray, the 
saintly editor of the Interior, who spent a great por- 
tion of his long life in the woods, and who shortly be- 
fore his death wrote : 

" It has been my highly prized privilege to return to 
the Adamic conditions of existence, to live in the para- 
dise of God, to taste the exquisite and exhilarating joys 
of primitive life. Adam was under disadvantages, but, 
after all, he Avas the happiest man of his race. Let us 
forsake the vapid follies of fashion and dissipation and 
return to a life as simple and unostentatious, as benev- 
olent and unselfish as that of our Lord. Let us free 
ourselves from the vain complexities of theology, of 
philosophy and of living and rise to the pure, free air, 
and to the simple dignity and worth of true manhood 
and womanhood." 

The wind increasing in violence, we went to the 
camp, had our dinner, and once more set out for the 



82 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

Caribou Barren. We expected, to find the lost hunting- 
knife, and hoped against hope that we might see some 
game on the journey. Two days before this a large 
cow moose had been seen feeding in some tall grass, 
and now on entering the woods opposite to this spot 
we discovered this same cow. She was, as before, 
without male escort. The wind, blew from her to us, 
and we watched her for a few minutes while she fed, 
all unconscious of our presence. When we walked past 
her it was interesting to see how very quickly she got 
our scent and how speedily she could disappear into 
the friendly brush. 

We tramped back and forth on the feeding grounds 
of the caribou, up one side of the ridge and down the 
other, and the length and breadth of it, but neither 
hunting-knife nor caribou did we see ; nor any living- 
animal, excepting the cow moose, and as for her, she 
was sacred, and therefore not to be meddled with. 

The result of this day's hunt decided Henry in de- 
termining that we should return to Moccasin Lake on 
the morrow, making an early start, so as to reach there 
by noon time. From Moccasin Lake Camp we were to 
try Keed Lake, which Henry was considerate enough 
to say was another lake set in the apex of a high moun- 
tain, the road to which was bad enough to be re- 
membered for many, many years. 



CHAPTER XI 

ONCE MORE A BAD MISS 

" O Negligence, lit for a fool to fall by." 

—Henry VIII. 

We packed our belongings and made an early start 
for Moccasin Lake Camp. The reason for our change 
of base was because in two days more our return 
journey to what is called civilization would have to be 
commenced, and this day's tramp would put us a " day's 
march nearer home." It's the saddest part of a hunt- 
ing vacation when you have to turn back on your 
tracks. 

When you are on the forward move, the mind 
is always ready for new sights, new sounds, and new 
chances for game. When the spirits are high, and 
there's an eager and alert look in the eye, your step is 
light and springy. You peer into this cove and into 
that one, always expecting a surprise. You scan with 
rapid glances the valley that unfolds itself before you 
for the first time. You look at all the soft spots in the 
road for telltale tracks. You crouch around the big 
rock, and hold your breath while you look. That high 
bunch of swale grass may conceal a deer. 

Is that a rock away at the far end of the lake, or is 
it — yes, it is — it's a moose feeding. 



84 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

The head is under the water and when it is raised 
note the splash of the water as the antlers cast it off the 
blades, like throwing it up with a shovel, and you 
know it's a bull. He's got your wind and he's off. 
Good-bye, old fellow. I'll look for you another time. 

But now we're coming to a dead-water. That piece 
of dead-water yonder which twists and turns to all 
points of the compass may even now be entertaining a 
bull moose with a dinner of lily-pads, a dinner always 
to his liking. 

But the return trip is a walk without ambition and 
unspurred by curiosity, and therefore the distance al- 
ways seems to be greater than on the ingoing trip. 
The portage over the high ridge, the crossing of Birch 
Lake in the pirogue, were now but commonplace pro- 
ceedings, exciting no comment whatever. Henry 
made a couple of " calls " at Birch Lake, more from 
custom perhaps than from the expectancy of getting 
any answers. 

But partridges were plentiful, and he soon had three 
of these fine birds hung to his pack, each killed with a 
single bullet. 

The day was hot and sultry, and each of us had more 
or less of a load, and in consequence our exertions 
brought out plenty of perspiration. The return journey 
discovered to us no game, no new tracks, and at noon 
time the distance was covered, and we were back again 
in the camp, whence I had started but a few days be- 



ONCE MORE A BAD MISS 85 

fore, buoyant and hopeful of coming out with a big 
moose head, a caribou head, and perhaps even a bear. 

The cook lost little time in getting a meal for us. 
Henry said quietly, " Now we'll try Reed Lake," and 
we were soon off again. A few steps from the camp a 
partridge was fired at and evidently killed, but it fell 
in some brush and we couldn't find it, and so it had to 
be left until our return. 

Reed Lake was only two miles away, but such a pair 
of miles you never saw ! The road was largely one of 
smooth boulders, — small boulders, medium-sized boul- 
ders and big boulders. The ascent was steep enough 
again to test the lungs, and, together with the heat, 
made us pause often and long. In these rests Henry 
was again philosophic and reminiscent. 

Speaking once more of the intelligence of animals, 
he used the reasoning of the late Dr. W. C. Gray : " The 
moral faculties of the lower animals are shown in the 
startling likeness to the language and tonal effects as 
used by man, or as much so as the physical conforma- 
tion of the organs of speech will permit. 

" Anger, defiance, affection, alarm, fright, sorrow, 
pain, gladness, exultation, triumph, derision are all 
heard in all their modulations in the voices and modes 
of expression of birds and quadrupeds ; language well 
understood by civilized man, but better understood by 
the Indians of the several tribes, each of which speaks 
an idiom of its own. 



86 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

"Most of the emotions and passions are well ex- 
pressed in the soft beaming or the flash of the eye. 
The pose of the body, the exhibition of weapons, the 
tremor of the muscles, the lofty, suppliant or shamed 
carriage of the head. 

" When we see a dog, himself hungry, cany food 
safely to his master, or die bravely in that master's 
defense, how shall we escape the conviction that really 
noble moral qualities are present in the phenomena ? 
Notice the warm affection and intelligent understand- 
ing existing between such widely divergent animals as 
the dog, the horse, the elephant, the seal, on the one 
hand, and man on the other. 

" The flowers at our feet look up into our faces with 
expressions so sweet and benign that our imaginations 
will persist in investing them with spirits kindred to 
our own." 

The good doctor elsewhere says : " One Sunday 
I found a sick horse- lying upon the cold, wet 
ground. When he saw me he called for help at once, 
lifted his head, touched his side with his nose, and 
groaned. I told him I was very sorry for him, and that 
he must not lie there, but get up and go home, and 
that he should have a warm bed and some medicine. 

" He was too weak and benumbed to rise alone, but 
he and I combined our forces, and he was soon on his 
feet, and he led the way with feeble steps. I did not 
know where his home was, but he showed me. 




Good-by to Genial Joe Smith 



See page in 



ONCE MORE A BAD MISS 87 

" I do not say that the man who owned him had no 
soul. I only say that the fact of the existence of his 
soul had to be reached by an abstract mental process, 
as we determine the existence of the ultimate atom." 

In my own experience of three years ago, a young 
bull moose was kept a prisoner to my certain knowl- 
edge for four days and a half, without food or water. 
He had suffered the misfortune of having his right hind 
leg caught in some manner back of a cedar root. The 
spot where he was thus forcibly " held up," or down, 
rather, was but three feet from the water of the 
thoroughfare at the head of " Our Lake." 

With his three other feet free he was during the 
whole of this time trying to free himself, and was con- 
stantly digging for himself a muddy grave. The water 
rushed in as fast as he dug and the result was an 
enveloping compound of sticky mud. 

I had heard him plainly on Friday and Saturday 
nights because the wind was from his quarter. Sunday 
night it changed and on that night and the following 
night we heard no sounds. On Tuesday morning a 
guide and I passed right by him without seeing him, al- 
though as I have already said he was but three feet 
from the water. 

On the return trip, however, the guide, who had left 
me more than a mile above, again heard the noise and 
soon located the cause. 

Going back to the camp, he enlisted the aid of one 



88 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

of our party, an expert photographer, and together 
they paddled up to the imprisoned moose. With an 
axe the cedar root was cut and the moose's leg was 
freed. 

The next thing was to get the intelligent animal out. 
They used a sapling as a lever, putting it between his 
hind legs, with a log for a fulcrum. With one man 
pulling at his antlers, the other hoisting him by 
means of the lever, and the moose doing all that he 
could to help them, he was at last liberated. 

Both men say that he thanked them as eloquently 
with his eyes, and by turning round and looking at 
them with every step he took, until he waded across the 
thoroughfare, as any human being could possibly have 
done. 

All his instinctive dread of human beings had disap- 
peared, and he showed by his actions that he appreciated 
to the full the fact that the men had actually saved his 
life. 

This was on a Tuesday — a few days afterward we 
were out — my guide and I — at night when the moon was 
shining very bright and the air was absolutely still. 
We heard a pair of moose feeding up the stream. Pad- 
dling silently toward them we first came up with a very 
large cow feeding on the left hand side of the brook. 
And next we found that she was mated with the 
same little bull whom we had rescued, for he was now 
her lord and protector. 



ONCE MORE A BAD MISS 89 

But now for our excursion to Reed Lake. When we 
arrived there the water was discovered to be very 
roily, so much so that any novice might know from 
looking at it that moose were feeding in and around it. 

The lake was fed by a small brook of deliciously 
cold and transparent water, in which the young brook 
trout darted to and fro with great animation. I at 
once got to my knees upon a low rock in this stream, 
and drank my fill of the mountain nectar. 

When I arose, Henry said : " I saw a bull moose 
just step into the woods at the other end of the lake. 
Do you see the cow there on the right-hand side ? " 

With a pair of field-glasses I looked, and then told 
him that I saw the cow plainly enough, but no bull. 

Henry simply said : " We'll find him in the shadow 
of the trees right beyond the cow, but we must cross 
the lake and work up to the leeward of them." 

There was a peninsula that jutted out into the lake 
considerably ; it was perhaps a half mile away, and for 
this point we directed our steps. On coming to the 
end of this projecting piece of land we got down to our 
hands and knees ; and well it was that we did so, as we 
found another cow moose feeding in a cove to the left 
of us, and she either heard us or winded us slightly, as 
we saw her mane go up, while she turned around and 
faced our place of concealment. 

It wouldn't do to frighten her, because she was very 
close to us, so Ave lay prone on the ground until she 



90 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

finally regained confidence and started feeding again. 
Then we raised up, and, with the aid of the field- 
glasses, we plainly made out a splendid-looking bull 
moose, standing like a statue in the edge of the woods 
behind the other cow. 

The way the wind was blowing there was but one 
thing to do, and that was to back out until we had got 
clear of the cove to our left, and then make a wide 
detour around the outlet of the lake, keeping back far 
enough so as not to alarm the cow in the cove, and also 
far enough so that when we reached the far side we 
would be on a line with the bull and somewhat behind 
the other cow moose. 

I have already said the day was hot. In addition to 
the heat, there were many windfalls to go under or 
over, a bad wet bog to cross and the ubiquitous alders 
and cedars to penetrate. 

This work required patience, and, at the same time, 
no minutes were to be lost ; for if the cow should finish 
feeding and go into the woods her mate would follow, 
and all our labor would go for nothing. 

Therefore we hurried as much as we dared, and, as 
for perspiration, we were both dripping with it. The 
last obstruction, the alders, was at last reached. These 
were carefully parted, and once more Henry said : 

" There's your moose ! " 

He was a fine-looking moose. His skin was glossy 
and black. He stood erect, his head and neck raised 



ONCE MORE A BAD MISS 91 

to the highest reach, and he was not over thirty yards 
away. 

On our side of him a dead tree, about ten inches in 
diameter, reached out parallel with the middle of his 
body. I hesitated a second or so in debating whether 
to lire over or under this impediment, and finally 
reached the decision to fire under it. I coolly and care- 
fully took aim and fired. The moose quickly turned to 
run, and as he did so I fired two more shots at him, 
wondering between times why he did not drop. 

He showed wonderful alertness in getting out of 
sight, and, with what wind I had left, I ran after him, 
but he disappeared as if by magic. In fact, it was 
very hard even to trail him, and we didn't succeed in 
getting a certain and sure sight of his line of retreat 
until we had circled twice over quite a good piece of 
ground, reaching back to a small ridge. 

There were no signs of blood, no signs that he was 
faltering in his movements ; but plenty of signs to show 
that he hadn't been hit, excepting where we found a 
bunch of hair, which had been shot off his mane as he 
swung around. 

To say that I was doubly chagrined at this second 
streak of bad shooting does not at all do justice to my 
feelings. For the life of me I couldn't account for it, 
excepting upon the theory that the elevation and the 
state of exhaustion which I was in after my hard walk 
and climb in both instances must have made me unsteady. 



92 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

In both cases, however, I had clearly and cleanly 
overshot the quarry, and that was all that could be said 
about it. 

Some ten days afterward, when I was at my camp 
in Maine, a companion sportsman, Avho was making his 
first hunting trip to the Maine woods, for an hour or so 
carried my rifle, while I carried his, which was much 
lighter. 

We had a hard tramp of several miles and when we 
reached the objective point of our trip — a newly dis- 
covered dead-water — I made a fire and was boiling 
some water, while he Avas carelessly examining my rifle. 
He casually remarked to me : "I see you carry your 
rifle with the sight elevated at a hundred yards." I 
made some passing remark in answer, but thought no 
more about it, until after he had left for home, and one 
night when I was lying out at an upper dam, his re- 
mark came back to me, and I looked at the sights and 
found they were set for an elevation of two hundred 
yards. 

Then I knew why I had made two such shameful 
misses. I have always made it a practice to keep 
my sights at zero, and to elevate when necessity re- 
quired me to do so. For three weeks before my de- 
parture for New Brunswick, the rifle had been stand- 
ing in my office uncovered, and my theory is that some 
employee had innocently tampered with the sights, 
elevated them, and then set the rifle down, and as the 



ONCE MORE A BAD MISS 93 

two chances which I had were both remarkably close 
shots, I naturally fired away over the moose each time. 
Of course, it was nothing but gross carelessness upon 
my part in not looking at the rifle and seeing that the 
sights were all right before shooting, and hence the line 
at the head of this article, which Shakespeare puts into 
the mouth of Cardinal Wolsey after his fall from great- 
ness, is a timely and a proper finish to it. 

" O Negligence, fit for a fool to fall by." 

In relating the above incident to a friend who has had 
much experience in shooting big game he said that once 
in British Columbia he was hunting wild goats on the 
Selkirk Mountains. He had spent day after day climb- 
ing up and around the snow-clad mountain peaks, 
when he was compelled to lie down and rest. It was 
not long before five goats appeared around the corner 
of a jutting crag, perhaps thirty yards away. Getting 
two good big rams in line he fired and missed and as 
they ran he fired again and again with nothing but 
misses. Examination showed him afterward that his 
rifle was sighted for five hundred yards. This was the 
only chance he had in his whole trip of bagging a moun- 
tain goat. 



CHAPTER XII 

OUR RETURN TO THE HOME CAMP 

"Winding up days with toil, and nights with sleep." 

—Henry V. 

Now came the exodus from Moccasin Lake Camp 
to the home camp, and on the morning following the 
experience at Reed Lake, we packed our superfluous 
things into a big bundle, which our sturdy cook was to 
" tote " homeward, while Henry and I were to make a 
wide detour covering two more lakes. 

For once we followed a good road and, although the 
weather was snappy with the low temperature on this 
early October morning, it was a very enjoyable tramp 
to the first lake which was named after a man called 
Smith. On the three miles that were traversed before 
this lake came into sight, no game of any kind was 
seen, not even a partridge or red squirrel. 

We passed a set of lumber camps that seemed to be 
in good condition excepting that the roofs had been 
torn off by a man who desired the material to cover 
some camps which he was building himself. This 
action was rudely resented by the owner of the camps 
who sent the roof-robber a bill for the damages, which 
was promptly settled. 

We came upon the lake at its upper end. There 



OUR RETURN TO THE HOME CAMP 95 

were some fresh moose tracks along the shore, and the 
water was somewhat roiled. Apparently moose had 
been feeding there during the night and they had left 
early in the morning. 

There were some large rocks on the shore and plenty 
of tall grass. The sun had now come out strong and 
warm. We watched the shores of the lake from be- 
hind the rocks for quite a while. At the far end, three 
black ducks were feeding. They splashed about, div- 
ing and playing in the water and making considerable 
noise. 

As they often bunched up so that a shot with the 
.22 calibre rifle might be successful, I asked Henry if I 
hadn't better make a circuit of the lake with the rifle 
and try to get a shot at them. He said that they were 
now through feeding and would soon be off. Hardly 
had he spoken the words, when they got up with much 
clamor and flew away. This silent, observing man had 
noted by their actions that their appetites had been 
satisfied, and they had taken to playing; after that 
would come their departure. 

No sign of the moose reappearing, we trudged on to 
the next lake, a distance of a mile and a half. At the 
end at which we came in, the ground was boggy and 
wet. 

Making a circuit of the shore, we came to the 
bleached and whitened skeleton of a moose, said to 
have been killed during close time by a man who 



96 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

wanted to test a new rifle ; the distance at which he 
had fired was said to have been 250 yards. 

It would seem that the rifle must have been all right 
and the aim sure, or the victim whose body was substi- 
tuted for a rifle butt would not have been lying where 
we found him. 

The wind had now freshened to such a velocity that 
hunting was out of the question, and we headed 
for the home camp, where we arrived in time for 
dinner. 

Here we found a gentleman who had been out over 
thirty days after a moose, and although he had had 
plenty of chances, yet he was unsuccessful. He was to 
start homeward as soon as a team and a saddle horse 
would arrive, the one to take his dunnage and the 
other for him to ride. 

He didn't seem at all chagrined at his want of suc- 
cess, although he emptied the magazine of his rifle in 
firing at one moose. He took the matter philosophic- 
ally and had very little to say about his repeated 
misses. 

In the afternoon we made a trip to Irland Lake and 
found some really fresh tracks there, and in conse- 
quence we made quite an extensive detour to see if we 
couldn't come in closer touch with the makers of the 
tracks. Henry, in the meantime, made frequent 
calls with the birch-bark horn, but no answer was 
elicited. 




Arriving at " Our Lake 



See page 113 



OUR RETURN TO THE HOME CAMP 97 

On reaching the camp at night we informed the un- 
successful hunter of Avhat we had seen on the after- 
noon's jaunt, advising him to try his luck there during 
the remaining two days of his stay ; but all his am- 
bition for hunting was gone, and we talked to deaf 
ears. 

When night came I gathered a few green boughs 
and, laying them on the floor of the camp for a bed, 
I got into my sleeping bag and slept until daylight. 

"We had our last hunt before starting back during 
this forenoon, which was also without result, although 
we covered quite a distance until dinner time arrived. 

After dinner Henry, the cook, and the writer got 
into our canoe at two-thirty, and with the wind blowing 
a light gale, which made our deeply laden canoe come 
perilously close to shipping water enough to sink her, 
we crossed the big lake of the Southwest Miramichi in 
an hour and ten minutes. 

On the farther shore I built a camp-fire, while Henry 
went back with some potatoes to the home camp. The 
team which was to take our stuff out the next morning- 
soon arrived, and we had our supper in the same camp 
where we had found the Scotch colonel with " that 
damned cook " on our arrival the Wednesday previous. 

I had now been " in " altogether but eight days, and 
when I lay down on the ground to sleep that cold, cold 
night of the 8th of October, when the ice formed 
along the edges of the lake before morning, I realized 



98 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

the fact that I had crowded into those eight days more 
of continually changing incident, of changing scenery, 
and of unique experience than in any other like period 
of time in my life. 

It had been, with the exception of a portion of one 
forenoon when we waited on a dead-water for the wind 
to go down, or to change, an unending strenuous hunt, 
in spite of wind, rain, cold or heat. 

The nights were always cold, and the days remark- 
ably warm for the season. The hunt was now really 
over, and unless we could strike something on the 
journey back to the settlement — which would take 
three days — we would reach Fredericton empty- 
handed. 

On the morning of the 9th of October, having break- 
fasted early, fed the horses and loaded the dunnage on 
the wagon ready for the long trip, the cavalcade left 
at seven o'clock. 

On the journey " in " . I had thought it best to ride 
on horseback, which I did with much comfort and 
pleasure. Now, however, I determined to make the 
return trip on foot, as I felt hardened and muscular 
enough to walk any reasonable distance without 
fatigue. 

Henry planned that he and I should take a different 
route from that followed by the team for the first day, 
so as to be out of hearing of the crunching noise the 
wheels made on the hard flinty stones as the wagon 



OUR RETURN TO THE HOME CAMP 99 

and horses pounded along, up one mountainside and 
down another. 

Our route followed a road which had been used as a 
logging road some five years previous. It was, in con- 
sequence, full of the usual small growth of alders 
and in places little firs and occasionally young cedars, 
with many blow downs to get under or over. 

Henry shot four or five partridges during the fore- 
noon which were all the game we saw. We visited two 
pieces of dead-water, and one good-sized lake, which 
went by the name of the Depot Camp Lake ; and these 
digressions from the road were all made with the ever- 
present expectancy of seeing something. While noth- 
ing was seen they added materially to the mileage 
traveled. 

A halt was made at one of Henry's camps for lunch. 
Here he had left a reserve supply of blankets for the 
use of his various hunting parties ; also flour, cooking 
utensils, dishes, knives, forks, etc. 

Some vandals had spent one or more nights there, 
and had left things in dire confusion. Besides, out of 
pure wantonness, they had thrown some knives and 
forks outside, presumably rather than wash them. That 
men would do such tricks seems incredible, but the 
evidences were all there to show how despicably mean 
some persons can be. 

The afternoon's walk was likewise unfruitful of 
sighting any game. We camped that night on the 



ioo WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

bank of a famous salmon river, and listened to the 
stories of the migrations of the salmon ; of how the fish 
ascend this river to the spawning beds ; how the female 
salmon clears out a nice, clean, gravelly place, where 
she can deposit her precious eggs to the best advantage ; 
how the male swims around her to protect her and the 
roe from her enemies ; and how, at such times, the 
dorsal fin of the male may be seen in the water as he 
slowly circles round and round the mother fish, driving 
away predatory interlopers. We were told of a man 
who called himself a sportsman — God save the mark — 
who at such times watched the stream for signs of the 
male fish circling around the female to protect her ; 
and when the dorsal fin of one of these glorious 
salmon appeared above the surface of the water the 
sound of his rifle would be heard. A noble fish would 
turn belly up and the " sportsman " would wade out to 
drag him in. 

Next day we were off long before the team started, 
in order to be ahead of the noise of the Avagon. Some 
few miles from our camping place Henry left me to 
visit one of his camps, a mile or more from the road, 
and I jogged along very quietly and cautiously. 

Turning a bend in the road I saw my first deer of 
this whole trip. It was a fine young buck, and the 
fattest I ever saw. It was a long shot, and rather a 
nice one to make for the centre of his chest, but the 
bullet went true and he ran but a few yards before he 



OUR RETURN TO THE HOME CAMP 101 

fell. When Henry came up it didn't take long to dress 
the deer and carry it to the wagon. 

That night it was hung up and a smudge fire was 
built, over which the carcass was smoked for a couple 
of hours and then sprinkled with pepper to keep off 
the blow-flies. This deer I shipped whole to Philadel- 
phia, where it arrived four days after, in splendid con- 
dition. 

After killing the deer we came to Hurd Lake, where 
we had seen a large cow moose on the journey " in." 
Henry had heard of a fine dead-water two and a half 
miles from this lake that he thought we ought to visit. 
A high ridge had to be crossed, and then we came 
down to the water again on the other side of it. We 
found the dead-water, and it was a beautifully secluded 
spot. While Henry tried his birch-bark call, I was 
much interested in watching an apparent migration of 
spiders across a wide pool. 

A long, slender piece of spider's silk would come 
floating by, away up in the air with a spider at the 
bottom of it, and this would be followed by so many 
others that it seemed they must be acting in concert. 

We spent a half hour or more at this spot, then 
we crossed the ridge again and crept as silently as 
possible to Hurd Lake. Here we seated ourselves at 
the leeward end of the lake and watched and waited. 

In a very few minutes we heard a branch break on 
the far side of the lake, and soon a calf moose stepped 



io2 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

to the edge of the forest and next into the water. It 
was followed by a cow moose, its mother, no doubt, 
who evidently did not feel at ease. We imagined that 
there must have been an eddy in the wind which 
carried back to her the tainted air from a pair of 
human beings. At any rate she stepped into the water 
and looked right over in our direction, and we saw her 
mane go up. In a few minutes she decided there was 
surely danger and out she went, followed by the young 
moose. 

Another small lake we visited before reaching camp. 
Here we saw yet another cow moose, and she likewise 
winded us; but she was in no way retiring, as she 
bawled and roared for all she was worth. 

Henry made a call with the horn to see if she was 
accompanied by a bull, but we received no answer, and 
so we went to our resting place, very tired and very 
hungry. 

The last day of our trip dawned cloudy and over- 
cast. Henry said, "No rain," and trusting to his 
judgment we were off early. But for once Henry 
was not a good weather prophet. At 8:30 it com- 
menced to rain and from that time on until late in the 
afternoon it was a downpour, not simply a rain. When 
we came near Salmon Brook Lake, where we had seen 
the big bull on our road " in," we went over to it in 
spite of the rain. Tracks there were, many of them, 
and fresh in the bargain, but no moose were seen. 



OUR RETURN TO THE HOME CAMP 103 

After that it was a wet tramp, tramp, tramp ! In 
spite of oilskin clothes and sou'wester hat, the rain 
trickled down our backs and our boots filled with 
water. All things must have an end, however, and 
about half -past four we arrived at the edge of the 
settlement, eight miles beyond which was the railroad. 

A change of dry clothes for our wet ones, a hot 
supper to appease our appetites, and a clean bed en- 
abled us to pass a restful night. The following morn- 
ing we were driven to the railroad station. . . . 
In due time we landed in Fredericton, the capital of 
the province of New Brunswick. 

Here I said good-bye to many friends by whom I 
had been treated with the most kindly courtesy before 
starting "in." Among them was Mr. Robert Allen, 
the secretary of the Sportsmen's Association of New 
Brunswick, through whose kind interposition I was 
taken to a most delightfully located club house on the 
bank of the great river St. Johns, owned by the 
Kaskaketo Club. 

Here a dinner was cooked and served by some of the 
members in a style of excellence that a " chef " might 
envy. Song and story followed the dinner. The day 
was balmy and the river placid. I saw a dainty canoe 
on the waterside, and, entering it, I enjoyed paddling 
across and up and down that noble river. 

At 6 : 30 on the evening of October 15th, the train 
was taken for Greenville, Maine, on Moosehead Lake, 



104 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

and as the train pulled out of that beautiful city of 
Fredericton I mentally bade a fond good-bye to the 
rugged an dinteresting game country of the Southwest 
Miramichi River and congratulated myself upon hav- 
ing had a strenuous, but a royal hunting trip, the 
memories of which will not be effaced as long as " the 
lamp of life holds out to burn." 



CHAPTER XIII 

FIERCE AND EXTENSIVE FOREST FIRES 

" The winds are aw'd, nor dare to breathe aloud ; 
The air seems never to have borne a cloud." 

Leaving Fredericton, New Brunswick, in the yet 
early evening, we were to travel to Vanceboro and 
there to take the through train over the Canadian 
Pacific Railroad to Greenville Junction, Maine. 

I have traveled much over the Canadian Pacific 
Railroad, having crossed the continent on a hunting 
trip over its rails. Our party, which was a large one, 
stopped at such stations in the great hunting regions 
of the northwest territories as seemed most likely to 
furnish the best opportunities to find game, and we 
always found the trainmen and the operating officials 
courteous to a degree. 

In one place where we were camped for a week, 
among a settlement of Creek Indians, where the 
water was so impregnated with alkali as to make it 
nearly undrinkable, a locomotive was daily sent, a 
distance of twenty miles, with a tender full of fresh, 
sweet water for our use. This was done without 
charge, and, so far as I know, without request. 
Wherever our car was unhitched from the train on 



io6 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

a siding, some little unexpected courtesy was always 
provided for us. 

On this present journey to Greenville Junction the 
same solicitous care of the passengers' comfort was 
shown by the train crew. On account of a de- 
tention from a hot box, the train arrived somewhat 
late and pulled into the station just at midnight. 
There are two large hotels at the junction, but neither 
of them had enterprise enough to have a conveyance 
or a man to help with the baggage or to pilot the way 
through the dark and foggy night to the hotel. 

The dunnage, perforce, had to be left in the station 
until the following morning. It has happened in 
almost all of my trips to and from this region that 
the dunnage sacks have been opened somewhere, and 
some much-needed article stolen. Once it was a new 
pair of laced hunting boots ; at another time a fine pair 
of field-glasses ; again, a pair of long rubber boots, and 
upon this trip a pair of' brand-new moose-shank shoes, 
a sou'wester hat and a few minor articles of clothing. 

A Philadelphia woman last season had a large trunk 
taken. It was filled with clothing needed for a 
month's stay at "Our Lake," and she was, in conse- 
quence, put to dire straits to find enough things to 
wear to keep her warm. She had to resort to the use 
of a man's shirts, neckties and underwear, and to 
borrow a couple of skirts from some more fortunate 
woman. The trunk has not turned up even yet. 



FOREST FIRES 107 

In the province of New Brunswick some forest fires 
were raging, but we experienced no trouble from them, 
although the sky at times was overcast with smoke. 

Some thirty miles away, on the line of the new 
Grand Trunk Pacific Railroad, now in course of con- 
struction, we could hear the explosions made from the 
use of large charges of dynamite in blasting through 
hard strata of rock. These severe concussions may 
have been the reason why we had two days of almost 
torrential rain. 

In Maine we saw the forest fires. In one section four 
hundred men were fighting the fire demon, in another 
two hundred and fifty were engaged in the same 
arduous work. There were no explosions, however, 
and no rains at all during our rather long stay. 
The atmosphere was, in consequence, exceedingly dry 
and resonant, to such a degree that it was difficult to 
hunt with success, the slightest noise being heard at 
what would seem to be an almost incredible distance. 

A half century ago, a fierce fire swept through Aroo- 
stook County in Maine, and burnt most of the timber 
down to the ground. This county is a large one, and 
runs parallel upon its northeastern boundary to the St. 
Johns River — the mighty river of the North, which 
empties into the ocean by way of the city of St. Johns, 
New Brunswick. The loss from this memorable con- 
flagration was enormous, not alone in timber, but in 
household property, public improvements, etc. 



108 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

Now see what a wonderful friend to man nature is. 
The settlers had nothing better to do than to till the 
land, which had been so suddenly and disastrously 
cleared. They planted the easiest thing of all to 
raise for their future sustenance — potatoes ; and lo ! the 
crops were enormous, the yield per acre being fabu- 
lously large, and best of all the quality was phenome- 
nally good. When cooked, the potatoes were of firm 
texture, white and mealy inside, and even now they are 
without doubt the finest potatoes in the world. What 
the county lost by the destruction of its timber has 
been regained over a hundredfold through the marvel- 
ous wealth realized from its rich and bountiful potato 
fields. 

There are few points in this great country of ours 
where Aroostook potatoes are not known and used 
either for the table or for seeding. 

It seems that the ashes remaining upon the land after 
the burning of the vast forests of spruce, pine, fir, 
beech, maple, birch and chestnut so enriched the soil 
as to have made this particular county the world's gar- 
den spot for the growth of potatoes. 

We crossed Moosehead Lake on October 13th — the 
next morning after reaching Greenville — on as fine a 
day as mortal man could wish for. While taking din- 
ner at Kineo I was called from the table to listen to a 
telephone message from a comrade from Philadelphia, 
who had missed his connections and was going" to 



FOREST FIRES 109 

charter a special boat to take hira across Moosehead 
Lake, a distance of forty miles, to Northeast Carry. 

When we registered at the Winnegarnock House, at 
the " carry," three hours after this, we found a large 
crowd of hunters there to spend the night, who were to 
leave the following morning in various directions to 
reach their "happy hunting grounds." There were 
some ladies in the party, who evidenced considerable 
excitement over the new environment in which they 
found themselves. There were also many guides, team- 
sters, lumbermen and a game warden. 

My comrade, having crossed the lake safely in a 
small power boat, joined us at supper time. The night 
turned out quite cold. We were given the upper floor 
of a dainty log cottage, where a, royal wood-fire was 
burning on the hearth below us, and we here changed 
our apparel for the toggery we should need for the 
hard work of the next few days in getting to camp. 

An early start down the Penobscot River was made 
the next morning amid the usual busy scenes of load- 
ing canoes and batteaus. When the canoes were 
loaded some were started up the river for points on 
Russell Brook and Russell Lake, while the majority of 
them took the downward trip. One party was going 
to Lobster Lake, by way of Lobster Stream, which en- 
ters the Penobscot a mile and a half below the " carry," 
the lake being seven miles from the river. 

A lady and gentleman from Philadelphia elected to 



no WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

stop before the Halfway House was reached, which is 
ten and one-half miles from the "carry." Here they 
spent their vacation, and they happened to come out 
again and to cross Moosehead Lake on the home trip in 
the same boat that I crossed in. Another party was to go 
up Pine Stream. This is the stream on which Thoreau, 
the naturalist, spent some time on when he visited this 
region in 1857, and near which the man who accompa- 
nied him killed a cow moose. It is nineteen miles down 
the river from the " carry." 

Other parties were to make the Allegash River trip, 
which takes many days and finally lands them on the 
broad waters of the St. Johns River. This Allegash 
trip when taken from the Penobscot waters is all down- 
stream with the exception of about ten miles when you 
leave Chesuncook Lake. Then you toil up a narrow tor- 
tuous stream until a small lake is reached and out of this 
you come to the famous Mud Pond Carry where a team 
of horses and a wagon take your canoes and supplies 
into Chamberlain Lake. After that you enter lake after 
lake until the Allegash River is reached. Then you 
have a lively run until y our canoe glides into the noble 
St. Johns River. Two parties were to canoe to Har- 
rington Lake, which is a few miles below Chesuncook 
Lake. 

As for ourselves, we made the Halfway House easily 
in time for dinner. My companion, who was making 
his first acquaintance with the wild and beauteous 




Copyright, 1905, by C. H. Graves 

Distant View of Camp on "Our Lake" 

See page 114 



FOREST FIRES in 

Penobscot, was enraptured with the varied scenery of 
the first part of the journey. Big, genial Joe Smith, the 
proprietor of the Halfway House, met us with a hearty 
welcome, and gave us a notable dinner. At this mod- 
est, unassuming log-and-frame house the meals are al- 
ways away above par, the butter always sweet, the 
eggs always fresh and the roast chickens always ten- 
der. We, of course, feasted on game this day, and af- 
ter an hour's rest we proceeded upon our journey. 

The water was extremely low from the long-continued 
drought. The canoes, therefore, had to find their way 
through all sorts of tiny channels, scraping over some 
rocks and dodging others, and little speed was made 
anywhere. We saw no game whatever on the down 
trip, unless a few black ducks, some red squirrels, and a 
host of muskrats would be considered game. 

We entered Chesuncook Lake at four o'clock, and in 
a few minutes we grounded on the shore in front of 
" Anse " Smith's historical hostelry. " Anse " Smith 
kept this old house in 1857, and here is where Thoreau 
stopped for a while on his trip to the Maine woods in 
that year. 

It is related that once during a dark night, when the 
rain was pouring down in streaks and the thunder and 
lightning were something fearful to hear and to behold, 
a man and his guide stopped at this house and asked for 
shelter for the night. The sportsman was told that the 
house was packed full and there was not a room to spare. 



112 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

The man was very ostentatious in his manners and 
said that he had plenty of money to pay for his accom- 
modation, and that he wanted the hotel boss to know 
that he was the Republican nominee for governor of the 
great state of Pennsylvania. That didn't impress the re- 
doubtable " Anse " very much, but he finally said that 
the man and his guide might lie down on the floor, that 
being the best he could do for them. 

" The Republican nominee for governor of the great 
state of Pennsylvania " was so much offended at this 
offer that he stalked out of the house into the howling 
storm, and made his man pitch a tent and build a fire 
on the shore of the lake, while he stood in the down- 
pouring rain, fretting and fuming over the blow his 
dignity had received. 

We arrived in time to get some supplies from " Anse " 
in readiness to start very early in the morning. We re- 
tired at 8 p. m., and at 4 : 30 the next day we were up 
and doing, had breakfast at 5 : 30, and left to cross 
Chesuncook Lake at 6 a.m. Our route lay along the 
northern shore of the lake until a large cove was en- 
tered. We paddled through this cove, and then entered 
a pond, where 4,000,000 feet of logs, which had been 
cut on the land around " Our Lake " the previous winter, 
were stored, awaiting the time when their owner — the 
Great Northern Paper and Pulp Company — would or- 
der them floated down to the huge paper mill at Milla- 
nocket Lake. 



FOREST FIRES 113 

After picking our way through this labyrinth of logs 
we entered the mouth of the stream leading down from 
" Our Lake," a distance of three miles. We found the 
stream so very dry that there was not water enough in 
it to float an empty canoe. This meant, of course, that 
all the stuff had to be " packed" up to the dam at the 
foot of the lake, and the canoes as well. 

A canoe having been carried up some days previously 
and hidden, my companion and I carried as much stuff 
as we could stagger under up to the dam, and then we 
walked through a dense swamp, following a thorough- 
fare until the lake was reached, and 5 finding the canoe, 
we paddled down to the dam. As soon as the men ar- 
rived with their first load we put what stuff we could 
store in our canoe, and we two paddled off to the 
camp. 

Oh, how delightfully familiar all the scenery looked 
as we entered that lovely sheet of water, " Our Lake." 
There were the big lookout rock, the two coves with 
sandy shores, which in their time have furnished a feed- 
ing ground and a playground to countless deer and 
moose, without counting foxes, minks, ducks, cranes, 
loons, wild geese and muskrats ; the familiar lily-pads 
floating on top of the water ; old Katahdin — Maine's 
highest mountain — towering up eighteen miles away to 
the eastward ; the Sourdehunk Mountains to the north- 
east ; and the two great hardwood ridges covered with 
maple and beech, moosewood and chestnut trees, now 



ii4 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

all ablaze with the brilliant fall colorings in every shade 
of yellow, crimson, and russet. 

My companion gave an involuntary cry of delight as 
the canoe rounded into the lake and the beauteous sight 
was unfolded to our enraptured vision. Our canoe soon 
arrived at the wharf landing. Its contents were carried 
into the cabin, and while the " tenderfoot " was sent 
out to the first cove with his rifle to sit and watch 
for a deer, I set to work and built a fire, got out our 
provisions, and before the sun had set in the west a hot 
supper of delicious fried bacon, baked potatoes, pork and 
beans, congou tea and baked apples was ready for the 
weary and hard-worked guides when they arrived. 

Need I say that we enjoyed the meal ; that mirth and 
story went quickly around ; that we were all thankful 
that the long-looked-for " haven of rest " had at last 
been reached ; that when we finally went to our beds of 
spruce boughs we were wrapped in contentment first 
and in slumber so soon after that we could scarce count 
the minutes until oblivion overcame us ? 

Ah, yes, the goal which our eyes had been eagerly 
looking forward to for months had been at last achieved, 
and from now on until the vacation was over it was to 
be a season of daily strenuous activity and of nightly 
slumber and healthful rest. 



CHAPTER XIV 

A NIGHT IN THE OPEN 

"The tyranny of the open night's too rough for natare to endnre." 

—King Lear. 

Two and a half miles by the canoe and then six 
miles as measured by the pedometer, in all eight and 
a half miles away, is a dam at the head waters of " Our 
Lake." My camp companion and his guide went up 
there one day and came back with stories of big deer 
tracks, and plenty of them ; of having each fired twice 
at a big buck thirty yards away and missed, of fresh 
moose tracks and of firs that one moose bull had rubbed 
his antlers on in order to peel off the velvet. So, on 
account of these stories, the next morning we all went 
up the stream again ; the other hunter and his guide 
only to journey as far as the place where they missed 
the buck, while my guide and I went to the dam, he 
carrying a sleeping bag and a couple of rubber blankets, 
a dipper, frying-pan and teakettle. He was to return 
for some important work to be done early the next 
morning. I was to hunt during the balance of the day 
and the next forenoon, and to lie out at night beside 
the dam. 

Albert, the guide, had started upon his return trip 
but a few minutes when I discovered that my match 
safe was empty. I ran after him and blew a whistle to 



n6 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

attract his attention. He returned, and a search in his 
trousers produced only two matches. With these I must 
perforce be content, and some way or other must start 
three fires with them for three separate meals. 

Some wood was got ready for the night, green boughs 
picked for a bed, and then a journey was taken down 
the stream to the mouth of an old hauling road, which 
is dearer to me than any road in the world, for 

' ' When to the sessions of sweet, silent thought 
I summon up remembrance of things past," 

I remember that it was on this road that I killed my 
first caribou bull, and a veritable beauty he was, and 
the year following I killed still another one. 

.On the north side of a dry bog through which this 
road runs I spent at one time six of the pleasantest, 
most instructive and most restful days of my life, for I 
sat from 9 a. m. until evening at the foot of a juniper 
tree within a couple of feet of a caribou trail. As the 
sun was warm and not a particle of air stirring and a 
band of caribou was ranging up and down during the 
daylight, I could watch and study these strange ani- 
mals to advantage. Here I read such books as I had 
with me, and I wrote as long as my stock of paper lasted. 
A little brook crosses the road beyond the bog, and 
across that brook is a cluster of old lumber camps now 
nearly all leveled with the ground. 

It was in one of these old camps that I had slept one 



A NIGHT IN THE OPEN 117 

night and awoke in the morning to find my wallet, 
with $135 in it, gone. 

After a search of the bog — made twice — and the 
roadway leading to it, some little tracks in a soft piece 
of ground near a big log outside of the camp gave me 
a clew. The tracks were those of a porcupine, and I 
mentally said one of those fellows with the dreaded 
quills is the one who has stolen the wallet. An ex- 
amination of the floor showed where the wallet could 
have been dragged down between the dressed logs, of 
which the floor was made. A wooden crowbar was 
cut, and with this a log was pried up, disclosing a 
deep hole, but no wallet. The next log to it was then 
raised, and lighting a piece of old newspaper and 
throwing it into the hole so as to see better, I dis- 
covered the wallet in the hole, or nest, made by the 
porcupine. 

That incident was ten years ago, and I still own and 
treasure the same wallet. 

It was on this road that my youngest son shot a 
famously big deer when he was but a schoolboy, and I 
was prouder of his success, I am sure, than he was. 

Time has dealt kindly with the road. It is, of course, 
somewhat grown up with young firs, and many blow 
downs make it a harder task to travel on it now than in 
the days that are gone. The caribou have all migrated 
and have left the state, perhaps forever. The moose 
do not seem to use the road in going to and from the 



n8 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

water as they used to do, and I saw nothing of game 
but the white flag of a startled deer as it went bound- 
ing through the woods at my approach. 

Now the sun was sinking in the west, and a re- 
turn to the dam was imperative, so a rather hurried 
walk was taken to the stream, and then by stepping 
from stone to stone on account of the low water, the 
mile or so to the resting place for the night was 
easily made. 

I had anticipated catching some fish for supper in a 
pool where, in other days, we always could catch 
enough for our needs, but, alas ! they too were gone, 
and neither with fly nor bait could one be raised. 
Three slices of bacon to fry the fish with, some 
bread, and a box of bouillon capsules was all I had to 
last three meals, and without the expected fish these 
would make a slim ration. 

Getting a good big fire going, I ate one of the pieces 
of bacon, drank a cup of bouillon, made from a capsule, 
spread out the sleeping bag and like the weary lover 
who wrote : 

" Weary with toil I haste me to my bed, 
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired," 

I was soon in the land of nod. But not for long, 
however. 

A deer was whistling and stamping in the alders 
across the brook. The fire was burning down and the 



A NIGHT IN THE OPEN 119 

night was becoming very cold and more logs were 
heaped on. 

From away off in the distance, perhaps across the 
ridge, on another watershed, the plaintive call of a cow 
moose was heard. A splash in the water below the 
dam told of a muskrat or a mink, more probably the 
latter, as the locality was hardly the one to attract a 
muskrat. 

Down the stream an owl hooted occasionally, and 
once a piercing scream of some small animal in distress 
was heard. Imagination suggested that a fox had 
caught a rabbit or maybe an owl had caught one. But 
it was all guesswork. 

The stars shone beautifully bright and the noise of 
the falling water was most soothing, changing its tone 
and volume every minute apparently ; it made a fit- 
ting lullaby for the tired body and brain, and to its 
cadence I once more fell asleep. 

A branch broke to the back of me. It was a deer 
stealing through the thicket. He could be plainly 
heard, but not seen. Again the fire got low and once 
more it was necessary to pile on more wood. The night 
was getting yet colder, and every article of clothing 
which I had with me was now necessary to keep me at 
all comfortable. 

At last sleep — with many such interruptions — became 
an impossibility, and toward morning I gave up the at- 
tempt. Hardly had the first streak of daylight flashed 



120 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

its welcome light from the east before the birds com- 
menced to stir. 

The sound of a slow flapping of some big bird struck 
the ear, and as it came nearer it proved to be a large 
full-grown blue heron, which, not noticing me, let his 
legs drop from their horizontal position when in flight, 
and coming down before the wind, settled within a 
few feet of me. What an alert bird he was ! How he 
turned his head this way and that way, seeing if all was 
safe for him, before he commenced to look for his 
breakfast. 

Watching him intently, I lay perfectly still. He 
seemed to be sensible that his coast was not quite clear ; 
whether through instinct or the power of scent which 
this bird may possess, I do not know. But his eye 
finally discovered my lair, and what a start he made 
out of the supposed danger zone ! 

When I was a boy of thirteen, an uncle loaned me an 
old single-barrel muzzle-loading shotgun. I went with 
it on a Sunday-school picnic to a lake resort twenty-live 
miles away. As soon as the picnic grounds were 
reached, I was off with my precious gun to a stream 
called Kettle Creek, three miles away, and in rounding 
a curve in the stream I caught just a glimpse of a blue 
heron's head peeking up from behind some bushes. 
Aiming below his head, at where I supposed his body 
to be, I was elated beyond belief at my rare good 
fortune in seeing him fall to the ground, apparently dead. 



A NIGHT IN THE OPEN 121 

I did not knoAv the trick this bird has when wounded 
of trying to pluck the hunter's eye out if the hunter 
stoops and tries to pick him up, but I did know 
enough to catch him by his long legs, rather than by 
his equally long neck. Swinging him over my shoulder, 
I proudly started for the Sunday-school gathering, to 
show my big trophy. 

It was necessary to cross a rail fence, which I es- 
sayed to do, with the gun in the right hand and the 
heron slung over my left shoulder, with his head hang- 
ing down. 

He was not dead ; indeed, not by a long sight, for as 
I was climbing over the top rail he grabbed the seat of 
my trousers and also quite a portion of my nether 
anatomy with his sharp bill. 

Giving a yell of pain, I dropped the gun and fell in 
a heap on the far side of the fence, and that fall broke 
the heron's underhold. That hold was worse to me than 
any collar and elbow or Greco-Roman hold I have ever 
known since. It was, however, not much of a trick to 
take a fence rail and with it break the bird's neck, 
and then when actually, positively sure that he was 
really dead, I picked him up once more, and for much 
of the balance of the day I strutted around with him 
on my shoulder, a proud and happy boy. 

My father had the royal bird stuffed and placed in a 
glass case, where it remained among the household 
goods for over twoscore years. 



122 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

Now, let us return to the clam, after this digression- 
The noisy red squirrel commenced to forage for his 
breakfast after the heron had disappeared. Another 
deer whisked from the opposite side of the brook, and 
at last the sun showed his glorious face over the tree- 
tops in the eastern sky. 

The night had departed, a new day had begun — the 
birds and the animals and the insects were each and 
every one either hunting for their breakfast or busy eat- 
ing it, excepting the night prowlers, like the owl and the 
fox, and they were making ready to go to their repose. 

It would be interesting to know how many animals 
had passed perhaps a restless night because of their 
getting a breath of air tainted by the scent of a hu- 
man being; how many owls had looked down upon 
me with curious eyes, wondering what manner of 
creature this stranger could be ; how many red squirrels 
had pried into my secret retreat, and how many foxes 
had passed me by, in a hurry to get out of possible 
harm. 

As for me, I broke the ice which had covered the 
brook from shore to shore during the night, had a 
morning wash, boiled another bouillon capsule, ate 
another slice of bacon, shouldered my rifle and was off 
for another day's hunt. " The night at the dam " be- 
came a thing of the past, because a new day was upon 
me, with its work to be performed and its pleasures to 
be enjoyed. My two matches had been enough for me 



A NIGHT IN THE OPEN 123 

because the fire was kept burning all night ; and as for 
lunch, I still had a slice of bacon, some bouillon cap- 
sules, and a bit of bread, which, with plenty of water 
to wash it down, Avas all-sufficient. 



CHAPTER XY 

A SMOKY ATMOSPHERE 

' ' Oft expectation fails, and most oft there 
"Where most it promises : and oft it hits 
Where hope is coldest, and despair most sits." 

All's Well. 

It was a most peculiar hunting season. The air, 
having been loaded with dense smoke for many days 
and weeks, was dry and resonant. A breaking twig 
sounded almost like the cracking of a sapling. The 
laugh of the loon reverberated from ridge to ridge, and 
his " ha-ha's " echoed and reechoed for a long time. 

The noisy barking of the red squirrels never sounded 
louder, and on our approach they told every living 
thing in the forest, " Look out, look out, a man is 
coming." 

The hammering of the hollow trees by the big red- 
headed woodpeckers sounded like blows struck by a 
wooden mallet. 

I had ordered the roof to be removed from a camp 
on the farther side of the lake, and so as to be out 
of reach of the noise, I took a road that led back 
through a great swamp on our side of the water. 
Two miles or more into the swamp was traveled, until 
a likely place for watching for game was found, and 
here I sat down to watch and to listen. 

Maybe half an hour passed, and then I heard a crash 



A SMOKY ATMOSPHERE 125 

which instantly brought me to my feet. It was fol- 
lowed by another in quick succession. With ride 
raised I looked for the cause of the disturbance. My 
first thought was that a pair of bull moose were fight- 
ing, but later on the truth dawned on me that it was 
the noise of removing the felt from the roof of the 
camp which I had heard. This was hard to believe, 
and yet it was really the case. 

On an afternoon when I was alone at the camp, the 
guide and cook having been sent some miles away on 
an errand, I heard a couple of men talking — as it 
seemed to me — in a small cove, about a hundred 
yards from the camp. Taking rifle and field-glass to 
see who they were — for we very seldom have visitors 
up our way, and hence to hear strange voices was sur- 
prising — I went to the cove. 

A large flock of hooded merganser ducks took wing 
at my approach, and flew away, but no men were to 
be seen, and yet the voices could be plainly heard, 
sounding as if the men were far back in the woods and 
coming down to the water. With the field-glasses the 
shores of the lake were scanned, but no sign of any 
human being could be seen, and the voices seemed to 
be getting nearer and yet nearer, and finally to be on 
the opposite side of the water. 

At last I noticed a canoe rounding out of the 
thoroughfare at the foot of the lake and following 
the farther shore. It contained the two men who had 



126 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

left in the morning, and they were now returning. 
Their voices had at first reached me apparently from 
the dam at the foot of the thoroughfare, which is 
easily two miles from where I was sitting. 

The reader can readily believe that this atmospheric 
condition not only made hunting difficult, but gave an 
uncanny feeling to the hunter himself. "What effect it 
had upon the sensitive deer and the secluded moose 
can well be imagined. Yery different was this season 
from the one some years ago when four deer in one 
day was the record for two of us. 

No wonder that we saw but the tails of vanishing 
deer when we expected to see their heads. I saw 
hundreds of these wild inhabitants of the forest, but 
not a solitary buck did I see that I could be sure of. 
Only the tails, only the tails, and this was repeated 
over and over again, and day after day. 

Only near to running water was there any chance 
of seeing them long enough to make out their sex 
surely, and beside running water one buck was killed, 
and another was fired at and missed, but with neither 
of these did I have anything to do. This much for 
the deer. 

Now for the moose. The numerous roads leading 
to the lake, to the thoroughfares and to the dead- 
waters, showed plenty of old moose tracks, but not a 
single fresh one. Day after day I scanned the roads 
on each side of the lake ; but, save for one track made 




The Martindale Camp in Maine 



A SMOKY ATMOSPHERE 127 

by a small cow moose, there was nothing else to be 
found. Hence we wrote home that the moose had 
gone. 

The allotted time for my companion to stay having 
expired, he left us on a Thursday, and the last words 
he " hollered " to me were, " When you get back 
home call me up on the 'phone, and just say, ' I've got 
him.' " 

Some few days afterward, at five o'clock in the 
morning, my guide and I paddled down the lake to 
the dam at its foot. We left the canoe there, and then 
walked down the stream a couple of miles to a road 
leading away at right angles to the water. Up this 
road we traveled until we came to a set of lumber 
camps, where he had seen a big buck the day before. 

No signs of him or of any other deer being visible, 
we planned that I should take a tote-road along the 
western side of the ridge to another set of old camps 
five miles away. The guide was to return by the way 
we came, take the canoe again, and paddle up the lake 
and the stream to a road that would lead to this last 
set of camps, and there he was to await my arrival, 
which we fixed could be easily done by 11 : 30 a. m. 

We had lunch with us and I had on an extra coat, a 
sweater, a vest, and a bathing vest, but on account of 
the heat, before the first set of camps was in view all 
these articles of clothing had been discarded and 
hidden in a plainly marked hollow tree. 



128 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

I was now clothed only in a shirt and trousers and 
underwear, a cap and- shoes and stockings. This tote- 
road I had frequently used from the other end in years 
gone by, but had never been on it from the southern 
end. Hence I was particular in asking about its gen- 
eral course, and if there was any chance of my stray- 
ing away from it. This the guide assured me was 
utterly impossible. 

So we parted, he telling me that the entrance to the 
road was on the other side of a brook near which we 
were standing. 

I crossed the brook, went up the ridge a short dis- 
tance, and found two roads, one leading to the left and 
the other to the right. Not knowing which I was to 
take, I blew the whistle, calling the guide back, and 
asked which road I was to use. He shouted back to 
take the right-hand one. 

This I found to be a fine wide road, but it did not 
seem to me to go in the direction that I thought it 
should. I noticed also that the blazed spots on the 
trees were only two, where a tote-road should have 
three spots, two spots being the sign manual for a 
hauling, logging road. 

However, I jogged along contented and happy. 
The day was fine, but quite hot. I had abundance of 
time in which to cover the five miles before 11 : 30, as 
I had left the camps at 8 : 30. I carried no load ex- 
cepting the rifle, walking easily for an hour by the 



A SMOKY ATMOSPHERE 131 

evidences that I had stumbled upon a real sanctuary of 
the moose, when crash ! crash ! went a big animal 
through the alders. 

The rifle was quickly brought to the shoulder, and 
as quickly lowered ; it was but a cow moose and a 
small one at that. No doubt it was the one whose 
tracks we had seen once before. She ran fifty yards 
or so, then she turned around and watched me with 
keen attention, but she was of no interest to me and 
again I started down the puzzling brook. 

But mark now, another series of rushes startled me, 
and another big animal was tearing like mad through 
the alders. Once more the rifle was raised, and this 
time my eyes looked upon the largest bull moose I had 
ever seen. His antlers showed just for a second above 
the waving alders. He was running away in an al- 
most direct line from me, and it was a rather nice shot 
to get a bullet in back of his shoulder. 

The trigger was touched, and " laws-a-mighty ! " as a 
colored guide used to say, with the report of the rifle 
the great animal dropped as if hit with a sledge-ham- 
mer. I pumped another cartridge into the gun to be 
sure of being ready if one more cartridge was needed, 
but it wasn't. He had fallen on a sloping piece of 
ground and was quite dead when I reached him. I 
viewed him over and examined his head and huge feet. 

I said to myself, " There is the veritable moose that 
year after year for a decade back the lumbermen and 



132 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

trappers have talked about, calling him the ' big moose 
of Cuxabexis Lake.' " Hundreds of times in the years 
that were gone had I followed his tracks without even 
getting a sight of him. He was now old and as gray 
as a rat. The taxidermist, who afterward mounted his 
head, said upon examination of it that he was at least 
twenty years old. 

It was exactly eleven o'clock when I had finished 
looking the moose over. It must not be forgotten that 
I was still lost ; you may be sure I didn't forget it. 

The first thing to do was to endeavor to turn him 
upon his back, so that he could be opened and the en- 
trails removed, but struggle as I would I couldn't 
move him in any way. I cut down a yellow birch 
sapling and tried the stem of that, as a crowbar or 
lever, with a small log as a fulcrum, but it was of no 
use. He could not be budged. 

However, by lying prone on the ground, I managed 
to get my hunting-knife into the carcass pretty far up. 
Then by cutting down carefully I partly removed the 
intestines so that the gases would have a free escape, 
until I could find my way out and return with the men 
to help in dressing him. 

I had a small hatchet on my belt and with this I 
commenced " spotting " my way out, of course follow- 
ing the brook. For a half mile it was easy Avork. 
Then the brook again went down out of sight and I 
came to an open place which was nigh to being im- 



A SMOKY ATMOSPHERE 129 

watch, and having attained the top of the ridge, I sat 
down and rested and listened for fifteen minutes, but 
heard nothing. 

Striking out again I was surprised to find rr^self 
going down on the opposite side of the ridge. This I 
knew would take me to a different watershed, so my 
steps were retraced until the resting place again came 
in sight. 

Another road was taken and this seemed to be the 
genuine tote-road. It was wide, the bottom was cov- 
ered with grass and it was a pleasant road to walk in. 
There were, however, two blazed spots on the trees 
where there should have been three. I walked over a 
mile upon it, and it abruptly came to an end. 

Another retreat to the resting place was now neces- 
sary. A road bearing more to the left I took next. 
This ran but a half mile or more and that was the end 
of it. 

I now knew that I was lost, that I must have been 
put on the wrong road, or strayed from the right road 
in some way. 

Back again I went to the log where the trouble had 
commenced and there was but one more road in sight 
and that was a road whose entrance was almost hidden 
by young firs that grew upon each side and met at 
the top, making of it a sort of arboreal avenue. 

Entering this pathway the first thing that I saw was 
an old logging yard with the logs still lying on the 



130 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

ground badly rotted and decayed. Beyond this yard 
was a small ravine, and beyond that another logging 
yard. 

I decided that the ravine should be followed until it 
came to water, and then I thought I could easily find 
out where I was. Following this ravine a few minutes, 
I found a little brook, which persistently seemed to 
disappear into some subterranean channel in about 
every fifty feet of distance traveled. 

This was very puzzling, because the ravine gradually 
widened out to the width of quite a respectable valley, 
and it was a hard matter to keep track of the brook's 
many disappearances. 

At one place the stream came to the surface and for 
a hundred feet it widened to such a width that I could 
not jump across it. Green grass, lush and lusty, grew 
on each side of it. Beyond the grass came a fringe of 
alders, and beyond the alders many young maple trees, 
and behold! there were some moose tracks, fresh as 
they could be ! 

Here a moose had stepped over a log after wading 
through the brook and the mud from its feet was yet 
slipping down from the log. The water was muddy, 
too, showing where the moose had waded through it. 
And did I not see how the top branches were eaten off 
a small maple tree ? 

I wasn't through making a mental inventory of the 
signs which plainly showed that here at last were sure 



A SMOKY ATMOSPHERE 135 

time an old mackinac coat, now in rags and tatters, 
and an old red sweater in like condition. These I took 
with me, as it was now becoming cold, and I might 
have to sleep out all night. They would come in very 
handy, as it will be remembered that I had parted with 
all superfluous clothing, and the lunch into the bargain, 
before leaving the old lumber camps. 

A glass bottle with about an ounce of honey at the 
bottom I also found, and this was taken along, too. I 
got to the dam at 4 : 05 p. m. and darkness was already 
settling down. I fired two cartridges and waited a 
few minutes, but received no reply. I then put on the 
old coat and sweater, built a fire and heated a tin dip- 
perful of water. This latter I did twice and drank the 
two pints of hot water and ate the ounce of honey, which 
somewhat satisfied the fierce cravings of hunger, as I 
had eaten nothing since five o'clock in the morning. 

Next I gathered a pile of wood to keep up a fire 
during the night if it should be necessary. But hark ! 
listen to that ! A shot, and yet another, from the di- 
rection of the camp above. That meant that the guide, 
who I was sure would be following back and forward on 
that old tote-road looking for me, had returned to camp. 

I fired my last cartridge in response, and in reply 
a single shot was fired from the camp — two miles away. 
A half hour more and a canoe rounded a bend in the 
thoroughfare and Albert cried out through the dark- 
ness, " Thank God, you're safe ! " 



CHAPTEE XVI 

LOST IN A CEDAR SWAMP 

"O, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil." 

Henry IV. 

In the last chapter was a candid confession of 
getting lost on my own camping grounds. 

It is now incumbent upon me to tell how I came to 
be lost. It's a happy thing for a human being, when 
things go awry, to be able to throw the blame from 
one's own shoulders to those of some one else. 

In this particular case Albert, the guide, placed me 
on the wrong road. I started wrong and kept going 
wrong all the time, until the realization that I was 
really lost took hold upon me. Then I decided that it 
would be much easier and quicker to follow the mysti- 
fying brook, than to retrace my steps to the starting 
point at the lumber camps. 

The mistake made was in believing that the brook 
would land me on Cuxabexis stream, about a mile and 
a half from the dam, when in reality I turned up four 
and a half miles further away, which made nine miles 
extra distance to walk. 

The reader must not think that to get lost in the 
Maine wilderness is any unusual occurrence. Seldom 
does a hunting season pass without the writer's getting 



A SMOKY ATMOSPHERE 133 

passable from a dense growth of little stunted lirs, 
alders and cedars. 

Going around the right-hand edge of this jungle and 
" spotting " in among the big trees, I made a discovery 
that astonished me very much. This open cleared 
space was an old and now abandoned beaver meadow. 
The beavers had not used it for a score of years at 
least, and the beaver dam at the bottom was, of course, 
badly broken down. 

Walking over this dam I was once more astonished 
to find another beaver meadow and beyond the dam 
for that one, still another meadow, making a series of 
three meadows with their three dams that these won- 
derful animals had laboriously constructed. 

It is just possible that the subterranean exploits of 
the little brook were really caused by these busy work- 
ers in tunneling under its bed for some reason or other. 
I cannot account for the phenomena upon any other 
hypothesis. 

Below the last of the beaver dams the stream broad- 
ened out considerably, and I took a road which seemed 
to follow it in parallel lines. "Whether it does or not 
I'll not know until another season's exploration ex- 
plains the mystery of finding myself at last at a 
quarter past two in the afternoon at Cuxabexis Cove, 
six miles at least from the foot of " Our Lake." 

Chesuncook Lake, into which this cove drains, is, 
during the winter and spring, raised by means of a 



i 3 4 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

huge dam at its bottom thirty-two feet high, and this 
immense volume of water is forced in places away into 
the interior, along the avenues made by the various 
streams, the water killing millions of feet of standing 
timber. For when the water is drawn off by opening 
the gates of the dam an ocean of mud and many 
stranded logs are left along the banks wherever the 
water has flowed. 

I made my exit upon a stretch of such land. It was 
then a struggle to keep from getting mired. The best 
way I found was to look for stumps, roots and pieces 
of bark and to jump from one to the other of these 
friendly helps. It was laborious and heating work. 

When this stage of the journey was passed I came 
into Moose Pond, a sheet of water perhaps three-quar- 
ters of a mile in diameter. The shores were lined with 
four million feet of logs awaiting a spring freshet to be 
floated down to the big lake below. 

The logs being speedily crossed, the road now lay up 
the stream to the dam at the foot of " Our Lake." A 
mile from Moose Pond, the high landing was reached 
from which we had started that morning to go to the 
lumber camps. 

During the previous spring some log drivers had 
erected a wide shed under which a table was built 
where the men ate their meals. It had no sides, it was 
only a roof sustained by four posts. 

Here I found lying in the grass from the past spring 



LOST IN A CEDAR SWAMP 139 

Fourteen years ago I had a French Canadian for a 
guide in a district where he had been trapping and lum- 
bering for years. Early one morning I got a shot, head 
on, at a fine bull moose. The bullet entered his breast 
a little to the left of the centre, and pierced the lungs. 
He disappeared like magic and made for the ridges. 

It was easy following him by the profuse trail of blood 
which he left, and my judgment was that we ought to 
sit down and give him an hour's rest, so that when the 
trail was taken up again he would be so stiff that it 
would be no trouble finally to get him. 

Tom, however, was sure that we'd find him down and 
out at any minute, and insisted upon following him at 
once. The end, however, was not what we had ex- 
pected, for the trail led to a wet, mossy bog, and, as the 
tracks were closed up by the spongy moss as soon as 
they were made, we could not follow them at all. Tom 
figured out that we had driven him eighteen miles, but 
whether he was right or not I have no means of 
telling. 

When we had reluctantly to abandon the pursuit, 
Tom led off quite bravely for the camp, or where he 
supposed it was. It was now becoming late. In the 
eagerness of the chase we had partaken of no food since 
the early morning, and as the shot had been fired at 
eight o'clock and we had since been continuously on the 
move, we were naturally " tuckered out." Of clothing 
we had but little, as we had left all superfluous gar- 



140 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

ments in our canoe when we stepped out upon the bog 
where I shot the moose. 

Tom led the way first through an alder swamp, then 
over a ridge, and then we plunged into a cedar swamp. 
JSow it was dark and we could go no farther. The 
night became very cold. "We were not near any water. 
Both of us had been perspiring freely and the necessity 
for a big hot fire was urgent. 

A fire was kindled. My hip rubber boots were pulled 
off, and upon these I lay as close to the fire as possible, 
changing my position every few minutes so as to keep 
first one side warm and then the other. In the mean- 
time, I kept Tom at the job of chopping wood, while I 
saw to it that the fire was burning all night long. 

And how long that night seemed ! I'll never forget 
it — no water to drink and no covering, with the keen 
frost settling down and glistening like diamonds on the 
trees, logs and leaves. I told Tom stories, asked him 
questions, and got him to talk likewise — anything to 
help pass the night nw&y. 

I was fearful of falling asleep, because if the fire went 
down I might become chilled through and awake with 
a cold sufficient to bring on pneumonia. 

The stars never shone brighter than on that sharp 
and frosty night. By fixing the eyesight first on one 
star, and then upon another, I could note their steady 
and majestic journey through the great unknown can- 
opy overhead. 



LOST IN A CEDAR SWAMP 137 

lost at least once and sometimes of tener. Guides them- 
selves, who are popularly supposed never to lose their 
way, often become bewildered and then it is ludicrous 
to hear their profuse explanation of how it all happened. 

Last August a gentleman with his wife and aunt 
spent the whole month in camp on " Our Lake." One 
of their guides was a man who lives in that vicinity only 
some six miles away. He has lumbered on the tract, 
and, therefore, ought to have known every acre of the 
ground in the whole thirty -six square miles. 

He used to indulge at times in very strong language 
in the years that are past ; but, by reason of his minis- 
trations as guide to these two ladies for three or more 
seasons, he had become very careful of the words 
used in their presence. 

One day a trip to the upper dam was planned, and it 
fell to Abe's lot to pilot the ladies up there and back. 

The " Auntie " is over threescore and ten, while the 
niece is many, many years younger. Nothing un- 
toward happened until the ladies noticed that Abe 
was thrashing through a fringe of alders and asking 
them to follow. They knew full well that as their road 
led up a ridge they should not be pushing through al- 
ders, which always grow near to water. 

At once it dawned upon them that he was lost. 
" Are we lost, Abe ? " they said in unison, and breath- 
lessly they awaited his answer. 

" Oh, no, ladies ; we're not lost ! Why, I could find 



138 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

my way up to the dam blindfolded. Lost ? No in- 
deed ; we'll soon be there. I'm just taking you hy a 
short cut." 

They noted, however, that he was steering them in 
all directions of the compass, that he was nervous, and 
wanted to keep a considerable distance ahead of them. 
He had a habit of talking to himself, and as his perplex- 
ities increased he talked louder and yet louder and 
finally the ladies heard him say, " Where in hell am I, 
anyway ? " 

" What's that you are saying, Abe ? " asked the aunt. 

" Oh, nothing, ma'am ; I have a tooth that's hurting 
me, and I hardly know what I'm saying." 

A few more turnings and then clear and distinct came 
the words, " Blamed if I'm not lost ! " 

" Abe, do you say we are lost ? " 

" Oh, no, not me. I couldn't get lost if I tried. 
Now, don't you go and get nervous. I'm all right, you 
can bet." 

He now changed his course and worked his way down 
to the stream, along whose shores he led them by a 
tortuous path through high grass, and at certain places 
they had to cross and recross the brook, thus getting 
more or less of a wetting. 

The trip to the dam was finally achieved. Their pe- 
dometers showed that he had made them cover fourteen 
miles in place of twelve, as formerly registered when 
they were not lost. 



■■ 




Copyright, 1903, by Keystone View Co. 

Well Stalked at Last 



See page 144 



LOST IN A CEDAR SWAMP 143 

and four weary men was stopped at eleven o'clock at 
night by the sound of a shot, more than a mile away. 
This was joyfully replied to, and shot after shot fol- 
lowed until they found a lumber camp, the occupants 
of which had been firing to bring in one of their lost 
comrades. 

Here the travel-worn seven were served with a hot 
supper and then they were put on the right road. The 
distance was more than six miles to their own camp, 
which they entered at two o'clock the next morning. 
They had covered more than twenty-five miles in floun- 
dering through bogs and over ridges, and what they 
thought and what they said would surely fill a book. 

On the morning following the adventure with the 
big moose of Cuxabexis Lake we were up long before 
daylight. We partook of a hurried breakfast and then 
with empty burlap coffee sacks, axes, ropes and sharp 
knives, we were off in search of the mysterious disap- 
pearing brook and the secluded sanctuary where lay 
the big bull moose. 

My " spots " when found were easily followed. When 
the scene of the killing was reached, we heard the low 
call of a cow moose, and one single answer of a bull, 
but the animals had vanished, they having probably 
heard us as we wended our way over logs and across 
the stones of the oft-hidden brook. 

Could it be possible that the cow's calls during the 
night had attracted to her side another lover to take 



144 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

the place of the one she had just lost, the biggest of 
them all ? 

It took the united strength of the three of us, with 
the aid of a lever, to turn the " big fellow " upon his 
back. Then we dressed him ; removed the hide, un- 
jointed the head and feet, cut out the hind quarters and 
the fore quarters and washed them off thoroughly with 
water from the brook. 

We hung up the hind quarters between two trees 
and built a smudge fire under them and gave them 
a smoking of two hours. Then they were sewed up 
separately in burlap, ready for shipping. 

Before this work was finished, Albert carried the 
feet to the lumber camps by a road which led directly 
there from where we were at work, and this road 
turned out to be the identical road upon which he 
had started me the previous morning, and in following 
which I had passed, in less than fifteen minutes from 
the time that I left him, not twenty feet away from 
where I killed the moose. 

The two men now carried out to the stream the 
hind quarters, the head and the hide, leaving the fore 
quarters to be taken away later, for these were for the 
guides themselves. 

The reader may wonder what has been finally done 
with the various parts of the animal. The head, of 
course, has been mounted. The hide has been tanned 
and lined and made into a monster rug. The four feet 



LOST IN A CEDAR SWAMP 141 

We talked of trapping, of instances of lost men in the 
woods, of the religions of the world — in fact of every- 
thing I could think of to chain Tom's interest and my 
own to the necessity of keeping up and keeping near 
the fire. 

What a welcome sight it was when the first reddish 
tinge illumined the eastern sky ! Before daylight had 
fully arrived we found some ice which had formed 
during the night beneath a cedar root. This I melted 
in a tin dipper, and put into it a bouillon capsule. The 
water was boiled, the contents of the capsule cooked, 
and we had our first nourishment in twenty-four hours. 

A tin dipperful to each, and then we Avere off in 
search of some road which might lead us out of the 
swamp. 

The first one we found led us down to a great 
meadow, through which a winding stream runs, at 
one place spreading out into a small lake. Then we 
got our bearings. We were six miles from camp. 
We descried two men in a canoe who were taking 
home a deer they had shot the previous night. 

A piece of silver induced one of them to paddle us 
as far up the stream as it was necessary for us to go 
to strike a direct route to the camp, where we landed, 
after a walk of two more miles, at eleven o'clock in the 
forenoon. 

Tom would not then, and, in fact, never did, admit 
that we were lost. 



142 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

We learned long afterward that our lost moose was 
found the next day by a votary of the goddess Diana, 
a young woman then in her teens, but now a mature 
matron with a growing family of children. In her 
palatial dining-room the head of our royal quarry oc- 
cupies the post of honor. 

In August of last season a young Indian guide, 
eighteen years of age, got lost on a Tuesday morning 
on the next watershed to ours, and he failed to work 
his way out until the Friday night following. He had 
lived in the meantime on wild raspberries and roots 
during his wanderings, for having neither gun nor 
matches he could do nothing else but pick and eat 
berries as he trudged wearily along. 

In the season of 1906, a party of seven ladies and 
gentlemen, headed by a lawyer from Philadelphia, left 
camp at daylight on a short trip, expecting in a couple 
of hours to reach a small lake, where they planned 
to spend the day fishing. In some way they deviated 
from the road and became completely lost. 

Like the children of Israel in the desert, they wan- 
dered to and fro. Lunch time came, but no knowledge 
of where they were had been obtained. They walked 
mile after mile until supper time came. A very slight 
meal was then doled out to the now weary pilgrims 
as the shades of night were settling down, but still no 
one could even guess where they were. 

The tramp, tramp, tramp of three tired-out women 



LOST IN A CEDAR SWAMP 145 

have been made into inkstands, the covers being made 
of silver, while the inkwells are of glass. The skin 
from the shanks of the hind legs has been made into 
a pair of moose-shank shoes, a splendid protection for 
the feet in snowy or slushy weather. The splints 
which control the action of the dew claws have been 
mounted into paper cutters. 

The hind quarters were shipped to Philadelphia and 
put in cold storage. These furnished the principal dish 
at one or more banquets the following winter. Some 
of the meat of the fore quarters was smoked and the 
balance salted down for the use of the two " good men 
and true " who were my guides for the season. 

Albert, when he found that I was not at the Logan 
Camps at the appointed time the day we parted from 
each other at the lumber camp, walked the whole dis- 
tance of five miles back again over the old tote-road. 
"When he failed to find me he fired several shots. One 
of them I heard, and answered with a shot from the 
first beaver meadow, but he heard it not. I also blew 
my whistle loud and long, but without response. 

He then returned to the Logan Camps and there he 
ate his lunch and mine also, and once more journeyed 
across and back the five-mile distance, making some- 
thing like a twenty-mile tramp to and from the two 
lumber camps. 

Then it was becoming dark and he went down to 
his canoe and paddled to the camp. 



146 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

There he was advised, of my two signal shots and 
I've already told of the result. 

It was amusing to me to note the impatient manner 
in which the guides listened to the tale of my wander- 
ings, of my hunger, of the finding and use of the old 
mackinac coat and time-worn sweater, of the nearly 
empty honey bottle, of the gathering of wood for an 
all-night fire, of the drinking of two dipperfuls of hot 
water ; for all of this they cared not a whit. 

But of the moose they would talk over and over 
again. They would say, " I'm glad you did get lost," 
and Albert, " I'm glad I put you on the wrong road." 

" But," said I, " supposing I had had to stay by the 
little brook all night without a cartridge left with 
which to fire a signal ? " 

" Oh, you'd 'a' bin all right : you'd 'a' had a fire 
and drank lots of water and you'd 'a' found your way 
out in the mornin'. We're both glad you got the 
moose and we don't care a darn that you got lost." 

Therefore, to them "nothing pleaseth, but rare 
accidents." 

The killing of the moose was the last incident of 
importance on this memorable trip, and shortly after- 
ward we packed up our belongings, broke camp, and 
were soon on our way back to civilization. But 
the health and vigor that we acquired in the sweet- 
smelling woods was a reservoir of strength on which to 
draw through a long winter, full of hard work and 



LOST IN A CEDAR SWAMP 147 

business perplexities. It is, after all, the added 
strength, the increased vigor, rather than the actual 
enjoyment of the experience itself — though that can 
scarcely be overestimated — that makes an outing or a 
vacation really worth while. 



CHAPTEE XVII 

A ROMANCE OF "OUR LAKE" 

"Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity iu least, speak most." 

— Midsummer Night's Dream. 

In 1834, Joe Sebattis, his wife — Nakomis, his two 
grown sons — Frank and Pete, and his lovely daughter- 
Anita, lived in a comfortable log hut on " The Point " 
at the mouth of the Tobique River, just above where 
this impetuous mountain stream rushes into the upper 
St. Johns. Joe and his family belonged to the Maliset 
tribe of Indians, the aboriginal proprietors of both the 
Tobique and St. Johns systems of waters, with their 
many thousands of acres of rich wooded lands, that 
fairly teemed with wild and noble game. This tribe 
subsisted mainly upon the fishing and hunting to be 
found in the Tobique valley, but many of the most 
venturesome of the tribe sometimes crossed to the other 
side of the St. Johns and took long hunts, either up the 
Aroostook River three miles above, or up the rugged 
Allegash, which enters the St. Johns one hundred and 
five miles northeast of the mouth of the Tobique. The 
squaws made baskets, mats, moccasins and snow-shoes, 
which found a market either among the passing 
lumbermen or farther down the river in the cities of 
Fredericton or St. Johns. The tribe boasted of having 



A ROMANCE OF "OUR LAKE" 149 

among its members the best guides to be found in the 
province of New Brunswick ; Sebattis and his two sons 
were by general consent acknowledged to be the most 
skilful of -all the braves. The head of this wigwam 
had learned to read and write, just a little, through the 
kindly aid of Pere Lamorieux, the priest, who ministered 
to the spiritual wants of the few white settlers and the 
Indians as well. Sebattis was, in consequence, respected 
by the rest of the natives, and he felt his importance in- 
crease with the birth of each new moon. 

Particularly in the treatment of his daughter, the idol 
of his heart, and in the dreams in which he indulged 
concerning her future married state, did this feeling of 
bigness assert itself. Anita was just sixteen years and 
three months old when he announced to her that she 
must refrain from receiving advances from any Maliset 
brave, as he was determined that she should marry some 
well-to-do pale-face who could keep her in luxurious 
comfort, give her a white man's education and so enable 
her to mingle with people of intelligence far above that 
of any of the members of his tribe. Anita's brothers 
shared this feeling with their father. They doted upon 
her, not alone for her beauty, but for her native good- 
ness of character, her nimble wit and the noble manner 
in Avhich she carried herself, for she acted almost like a 
princess among the other girls of the tribe, showing at 
once a ready leadership in all of their youthful amuse- 
ments. During the winter, Sebattis had noted with 



150 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

ill-concealed disfavor the marked attention that several 
of the young bucks delighted to pay to her. So he 
resolved that with the going out of the ice he would 
take his family, his tents, his pirogue, his canoes, cer- 
tain cooking utensils and a goodly store of " fleur " 
(flour), beans, salt pork, tea, tobacco and bacon, with 
fishing-tackle, rifles, powder and ball, and spend the 
summer on Lake Mctau, the fountainhead of the 
Tobique Eiver. Here he and his family would catch 
trout, smoke and dry them, hunt bears in the rich 
blueberry barrens, tan their moose and bear hides and 
render their fat, kill a moose, now and then, for fresh 
meat, and thus keep his daughter far away from her 
ardent wooers. Therefore, when the river was clear 
he started with two canoes loaded up to their full 
carrying capacity, and the pirogue filled as full as it 
would hold, and in this manner the family made their 
migration to the far-off haven of security. 

The trip was a hard one, there being but little " dead- 
water " in the stream ; in fact, possibly four-fifths 
of the ninety-seven miles of river in which they had to 
push their way up against a strong current was " quick- 
water." Their paddles were, therefore, of little use. It 
was " poling " nearly all of the way, and that, too, over 
a bad rocky bottom, where the poles slipped incessantly. 
The two sons poled the pirogue, the father one of the 
canoes in which his wife was seated, Anita managing 
the remaining canoe skilfully and with consummate 



A ROMANCE OF "OUR LAKE" 151 

ease. In five days and a half they reached Lake Nictau, 
a lake of very cold water, having a temperature of forty- 
five degrees in summer, and which poured its clear 
crystal waters directly into the Tobique River. Upon 
their arrival they were well-nigh devoured by that 
worst of all plagues, the fierce black fly. They built 
smudge fires, covered their faces with a tarry, greasy 
compound, but all to no purpose. They were forcibly 
driven to a little rocky islet near the centre of the lake. 
This isle was formed from a huge mass of rock which 
in some distant age had slid from the side of Bald Top 
Mountain, which rears its crown, a short distance 
away, to an elevation of 2,240 feet. Four or five 
spruce trees had obtained a lodgment on the island 
rock, and some plebeian undergrowth encircled its 
edges. There was room enough for four tents, a din- 
ing table and a cache, for their provisions, and here was 
the only place in the whole territory, excepting on the 
top of Bald Mountain, where the troublesome black 
flies were not present. 

In the early fall preceding the Sebattis migration 
an old Penobscot Indian, who had known Joe as a boy, 
made a visit to the Maliset settlement, spending three 
weeks there, and he had become very intimate 
with the family. Before the streams were frozen up, 
Nicholas, for this was the name the Penobscot went 
by, made the long, long journey by canoe from the 
mouth of the Tobique to Mount Kineo on Moosehead 



152 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

Lake. The region in and around Kineo had been for 
nearly a hundred years the happy hunting ground of 
many tribes of Indians. The fishing there is good, 
and the speckled trout caught there are immense in 
size and of splendid flavor. Moose, deer, caribou and 
smaller animals were to be found within two or three 
days' journey from Kineo, and in summer and the 
early fall the men could always obtain lucrative em- 
ployment as guides for parties desiring to go up or 
down the Penobscot, up the Dead River, the Moose 
River or to some of the myriads of small lakes which 
make this part of the United States a nation's recrea- 
tion ground. The guides frequently waged friendly 
contests in canoe racing, in shooting with the bow and 
arrow, or in the use of the old " flint lock." The 
leader in all this manly rivalry was a young brave of 
twenty-two, tall and lithe, with long black hair, hand- 
some face and piercing black eyes ; he, indeed, was 
first in everything, and his mentor and trainer during 
his boyhood days was old Charley Nicholas, the Penob- 
scot Indian, who idolized him and who would have 
willingly given up his life for him. Frank Talmunt 
was the hero's name. His father having been killed 
in a fight with an Algonquin Indian when he was 
very young and his mother forcibly abducted in a 
tribal raid when he was ten years old, Nicholas was 
both father and mother to the growing lad, and well 
was he repaid for his care. Frank was obedient and 



A ROMANCE OF "OUR LAKE" 153 

affectionate to his foster-parent, deeply grateful for his 
watchful solicitude, and no son, white or red, could 
have shown more respect for his natural father than 
Frank Talmunt did for Charley Nicholas. 

We need not wonder, then, that it did not require 
many moons for the stories which the old man brought 
back from the mouth of the Tobique, stories of the 
beauty and goodness of Anita Sebattis, of the stern 
resolve of her father and brothers that she should and 
must be married to a white man, of the contemplated 
migration to Nictau Lake, etc., to set Frank's heart in 
a whirl of excitement. As the long winter months 
rolled tediously by, he spent the days in trapping and 
the nights in learning to read and write, because he 
was told that Anita could read fairly well and even 
write a letter, having been taught the rudiments by 
Pere Lamorieux, the French Canadian priest. Many 
were the " talks " Nicholas and he had about Anita 
and how to woo her, how to get her away, if she was 
willing, from her secluded home. It was finally de- 
cided that, as soon as the ice moved out of the Penob- 
scot, the foster-father should carry a letter written on 
birch bark from Frank to Anita. He was also to tell 
her of Frank's great love for her and that before the 
frosts of early September she should watch for a signal 
which he would display, at break of day, from the 
table rock on the lake side of Bald Top Mountain. 
Then, in the dusk of the evening, she was to take her 



1^4 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

canoe and meet him in Mud Lake, a small lake sepa- 
rated from Mctau by a thoroughfare, a couple of 
hundred yards in length, and fringed with a dense 
growth of overhanging bushes ; here their canoes 
might easily be hidden from view. And so it happened 
that almost simultaneously, as Mcholas started from 
the northeast carry down the Penobscot, Sebattis 
turned his canoe's bow up the Tobique. As, however, 
nearly three hundred and eighty miles separated them, 
it was some weeks before the weary messenger, carry- 
ing the tokens of love and the story of the lover, 
reached the island rock. Sebattis and his family 
greeted him warmly and made him royally welcome. 

"When time and circumstance permitted, old Nicholas 
speedily unfolded his tale to Anita, giving her not only 
the precious birch-bark letter, but presenting her with 
a necklace of pearls that a countess might envy, which 
Frank had made himself from gems which he had 
searched for and found in fresh-water mussels. More- 
over, at every fitting opportunity when he and Anita 
were together, the old man, with burning native elo- 
quence, dilated upon the feats of strength and valor, of 
skill and endurance, that his son and idol had per- 
formed ; of his manly beauty, his honesty, his noble 
character and his high aspirations, so that, although 
Anita had never seen her lover, she had in her heart 
his picture as distinct as if photographed by the finest 
camera in the land. The rude and untutored ambas- 



A ROMANCE OF -OUR LAKE" 155 

sador told the old, old story so faithfully and so well 
that Anita was soon wrapt in love's day-dreams as 
firmly as her distant lover. However, time was pre- 
cious, the messenger must return with all speed to the 
Penobscot waters to tell Romeo how impatiently his 
Juliet awaited him, so that a meeting of the lovers 
could be consummated before September waxed old. 
Anita implicitly trusted the envoy and promised to 
listen to his admonitions of profound secrecy and cir- 
cumspection. She sent by him a letter written upon 
birch bark and a coral ring as a token which her 
Romeo was to wear upon the third finger of his right 
hand when they met. The return journey of Nicholas 
down the Tobique was soon accomplished, and then 
the hard paddling and poling up the St. Johns was un- 
dertaken in right good earnest. 

In the meantime, Frank couldn't contain his impa- 
tience. He " imagined many vain things," he fretted 
and fumed until his restlessness broke all bounds, and 
he determined to start ahead, trusting to luck or to fate 
that he might meet his foster-father on the watery path 
somewhere. Frank took good care to paddle only by 
day and to rest at night some place, where, if any canoe 
was to come along from the other direction, he would 
be sure to know who its occupant was, because the 
canoe would have to pass very close to where he would 
tie up. On the last day of July, about an hour after 
daybreak, Nicholas was paddling through Long Lake, 



156 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

which lies half-way between the Penobscot and St. 
Johns on the Allegash system of waters, when he 
noticed a canoe lying in the mouth of the Chemquassa- 
bamticook River. The occupant of the canoe was 
catching trout in a famous deep pool on the left-hand 
entrance to that river. It was indeed Nicholas, and a 
shout of recognition went up from him and Frank al- 
most in unison. 

Now, if ever a maiden listened with rapture to a 
lover's tale, Frank listened to the story his faithful 
father brought back to him. Anita's letter was read 
and fondled o'er and o'er, her ring was kissed raptur- 
ously, and the old voyager was made to narrate all the 
incidents that had occurred in that Eocky Eden in 
Nictau Lake so many times that the sun had swung 
half-way round his course before they thought of cook- 
ing the mess of brook trout which was lying in the 
bottom of Frank Talmunt's canoe. After their dinner 
of broiled fish and roast partridge, the balance of the 
day and most of the night were spent in discussing 
plans for the delicate yet grave work ahead of them. 
The old Penobscot, having been a trapper and hunter 
for nearly half a century and knowing all about the 
route to be traversed by his protege, gave him minute 
directions and sage advice to guide him on his fateful 
journey, and then as — 

"Night's candles were burnt out, and jocund day 
Stood tiptoe on the misty mountain tops," 



A ROMANCE OF "OUR LAKE" 157 

they parted, one of them to win or lose a bride, the 
other to prepare a nest for the couple to live in if the 
quest should prove successful. 

"We may be sure that Anita's heart and mind were 
tortured by anxiety as to when and how her lover 
would arrive. The table rock which stood out bold 
and sharp from the crest of Bald Top Mountain was 
easily seen from the island, and there were two little 
firs growing out from crevices in the rock, about ten 
feet apart. The signal agreed upon between Nicholas 
and Anita was the placing of a dead fir lengthwise on 
the top branches of these green firs, so that from the 
island it would look like a gate — the gate to earthly 
bliss. Anita seemed never to be able to keep her eyes 
from the rock and its green firs ; if she was not actually 
gazing at them, they were portrayed before her mind, 
and as the signal was to be shown only at daybreak, 
she unconsciously echoed the advice of the nurse to 
Juliet, " The day is broke, be wary ; look about ; " and 
look about she did. Upon a day late in August, at 
daybreak, she cast her eyes up to the table rock and, 
" Oh ! miracle of miracles ! " as sure as the great orb of 
day was then rising over the eastern ridges, so sure was 
she that her lover was there, and even now, perhaps, 
watching her ; for, lo ! the signal was set, the dead fir 
was really resting crosswise on the top branches of the 
two green firs. "What should she do ? Cry out she 
dared not, and to make any waving signal might at- 



158 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

tract attention from some of the family. She quickly 
decided to take her canoe and paddle out on the lake 
on the opposite side to Bald Mountain, so that while 
her lover could thus see her, any signal that she gave 
might be interpreted, if seen by one of her own people, 
to be simply a greeting of " good-morning," because 
the island would be between her and the mountain. 
So she paddled swiftly away, and when near the far 
shore she stopped, turned about, and sitting in the 
stern of her canoe, she gave the loon's cry to the morn- 
ing sun. With breathless intensity she waited for a 
reply, and it soon came, as an echo of the same weird 
call, followed by a perfect imitation of the loon's un- 
canny laugh. Almost instantly the dead fir was re- 
moved and the signal that had done its work was seen 
no more. 

Bald Mountain is about five miles long and two and 
a quarter miles broad in places. Its peak is nearly flat, 
having only a slight contour. At its base Mud Lake 
nestles close to it like a babe against its mother's 
breast, and in the extreme far corner of the lake enor- 
mous springs gush up from its bottom, springs of clear 
and very cold water, where the trout live and spawn, 
and where they can be seen almost any day during the 
spring and summer months. Anita had been for many 
weeks accustomed to paddle up into Mud Lake, push- 
ing her canoe over the great series of springs mentioned 
above and catching enough trout to stock the family lar- 



A ROMANCE OF "OUR LAKE'' 159 

der ; so no excuse would be needed for her to carry out 
the second part of the trysting agreement made with her 
by old Nicholas. When the sun had swung its course 
around to the back of Bald Mountain she pushed her 
canoe silently into the lake. She deftly steered it 
around the shore, which was one mass of overhanging 
green foliage. About midway of the lake a large 
spring gushes out from the side of the mountain, form- 
ing quite a respectable stream before it reaches the 
lake. Intuitively she pushed the bow of her canoe into 
this recess, and there, indeed, was her long-expected 
lover, seated in his canoe awaiting her coming. "With- 
out any other form of introduction than simply hold- 
ing up his right hand and showing her the token upon 
the third finger, they rushed into each other's arms. 
Then he told her how he had reached Mctau Lake 
some four days before, how he had secreted his canoe 
and how he had climbed Bald Mountain and how he 
had slept upon its peak close by the green firs upon 
the table rock and how the mist for four successive 
mornings had hung over the brow of the mountain and 
prevented his signal from being seen, how he had 
striven to see her and how he had climbed trees to 
watch her, and then how disappointed he was that each 
day found him no nearer his love quest than before. 
Then, when the mist cleared away on the morning of 
this day of their meeting, he told her how enraptured 
he was to realize that she had recognized his signal, to 



i6o WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

see her put off in the canoe, to watch her as she sped 
to the far side of the lake, and to listen with much 
anxiety until the welcome morning call of the loon was 
heard and he saw her waving the paddle of her canoe. 
Then his heart was glad, because he knew that all was 
well ! She, in turn, told him of her long, long period 
of anxiety and restless anticipation and of what she 
had done and planned for their meeting. They had not 
half finished their conversation when the shadows of 
night surrounded them and again bade them separate 
— she to her island home and he to his bed of green 
boughs on the top of Bald Mountain. But before part- 
ing they agreed to meet again at the same place and at 
the same hour on the following day. 

At about eleven o'clock on the next day three canoes 
stopped at the rocky island ; in them were six Maliset 
Indians from the home settlement. They were on 
their way to hunt and fish on the Mpisquit waters. 
One of them — Lonnie Kasota — was a young brave who 
had attempted more than once to pay attentions to 
Anita, but, her father always frowning upon his ad- 
vances, he had not made much headway. Lonnie 
Kasota, however, had not forgotten Anita's charms, 
and now that he once more beheld her, he was seized 
with such a violent liking for the girl that he could not 
take his eyes away from her. After the noonday meal, 
her father, noticing his ardent glances, took Anita 
aside and warned her against giving any encourage- 





Leaving Our Maine Camp for Home 



See page 146 



A ROMANCE OF "OUR LAKE" 161 

ment to Kasota's suit, at the same time ordering her to 
take a canoe and go to the great spring at the far end 
of Mud Lake and catch enough trout for use during 
the day — Anita always supplied the table with trout, 
for she was indeed an expert angler. The maiden, in 
order to confuse Kasota, should he observe her de- 
parture, paddled across Nictau Lake to the opposite 
shore, pushing her canoe along slowly under the 
shadows of the trees to a bunch of great sycamores 
and willows that grew close to the water's edge. As 
soon as she thought herself out of observation, her 
paddle was plied with all the strength she had, so 
as to reach the trysting place without being dis- 
covered. On arriving there, the canoe was slipped 
deftly into the mouth of the little stream, and jumping 
out on the sloping banks, she lifted it from the water 
and dragged it into the underbrush. This done, Anita 
sat down to rest and to think. But a few minutes 
elapsed when she heard the call of a kingfisher from 
far away, and this being the signal agreed upon be- 
tween her lover and herself, she softly answered with 
the long, drawn-out note of the white-throated spar- 
row — " ah-tette-tette-te " — which she repeated at inter- 
vals. Soon the bushes parted and Frank Talmunt 
stood before her, radiant with joy at again meeting his 
heart's delight. Anita informed him of the arrival of 
the three canoes, of Kasota's ardent attachment, and of 
the risk they ran of discovery, as he might be even 



i6i WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

then following her in his canoe, and that she must ful- 
fil her mission in catching trout for the use of the 
camp. Frank, acting impetuously upon the spur of 
the moment, and impressed with the necessity of 
promptly " taking time by the forelock " proposed that 
she should elope with him the following morning, tell- 
ing her that he had already arranged with the good 
priest on his trip down the Allegash that if fortune 
favored him so much as to gain her consent, and if 
they should succeed in making good their escape, 
he should marry them, and in proof of his willingness 
to make them man and wife, he had given Frank his 
itinerary of travel so that he would know where to find 
him on the waters of the upper St. Johns, to which he 
was then journeying. The lover now poured out his 
passion to Anita with all the eloquence of which the 
poetic red man is capable, saying to her, " Anita, fire 
is bright : an equal light leaps in the flame from cedar, 
plank or weed ; and love is fire. And thus I say, in- 
deed, / love thee, mark, / love thee ! " Thus was his 
avowal made, and he waited with breathless interest to 
hear the now silent maiden's answer. She looked long 
and lovingly into his eyes and then replied, leaning her 
head upon his breast, " Wilt thou have me fashion into 
speech the love I bear thee, finding words enough, and 
hold the torch out while the winds are rough between 
our faces to cast light on each ? I drop it at thy feet. 
Lo, I am thine ! Beloved, I love only thee ! " 



A ROMANCE OF "OUR LAKE" 163 

But listen ! listen ! both of you lovers, listen ! What 
noise is that which breaks in upon this sylvan paradise ? 
Swish, swish, swish/ it's the paddle of a canoeman. 
Nearer and nearer it conies. They fearsomely part the 
bushes and peer out, and as they do Kasota glides by, 
looking in every direction for Anita's canoe. Thus 
warned, they decide that she must take her canoe and 
paddle over to the great springs, where she will surely 
be joined by Kasota, and then catch her quota of trout. 
She is then to return promptly to her rocky home and 
be ready some time in the early morning of the follow- 
ing day, when Frank's signal comes, to slip into her ca- 
noe with such feminine belongings as she may need 
upon their fateful venture, joining him in an elopement 
such as would terrify most maidens of either race, red 
or white. 

Here was the problem before them : In order to pre- 
vent instant pursuit and give the elopers at least a day's 
start, it would be necessary that they should loosen the 
cables of all the canoes and let them drift away during 
the early hours or take them in tow and leave them 
somewhere near the entrance to the Tobique River, a 
good two miles from the island. Four canoes and one 
pirogue must be spirited away in some such manner. 
The water of Nictau Lake was too cold for any one to 
swim in, in order to reach either shore, and the family 
and their guests would thus be prisoners on the island 
until the arrival of a passing canoe, or they might, per- 



164 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

haps, cut down the two or three trees on the rock and 
out of them make a raft with which to reach the shore. 
"We may be sure Anita slept little that night, although 
she went to her tent very early after seeing that 
the canoes and the pirogue were all afloat in the 
water, so that in the morning there would be no 
scraping of the canoes when their cables were cast off. 
At about eleven o'clock a rather brisk wind commenced 
to blow across the lake. Oh ! if it would only change, 
she thought, and waft the canoes down the lake all 
would be well, and for this Frank on the land and 
Anita on the rock were both praying. Twelve o'clock 
came and every one was sleeping soundly. One 
o'clock brought a flurry of rain and a sharp puff of 
wind. Anita softly slipped down to the water's edge 
Avith her precious freight. Her father heard her and 
whispering to her, asked what was the matter. She 
replied that she was looking after her canoe to see if it 
was securely fastened. Satisfied with the answer, he 
was soon wrapt in slumber again. The call of the great 
horned owl, " To-whoot-to-who-to-whoo" from the near 
shore of the lake broke into the stillness. It was Frank's 
call to Anita. She now loosened the pirogue and all 
the canoes, one by one, excepting her own, and let them 
drift away into the inky darkness while with bated 
breath and straining ears she awaited the arrival of her 
lover. The embers of their camp-fire, which were even 
yet sputtering and smoking in the rain, would be a guid- 



A ROMANCE OF "OUR LAKE" 165 

ing star to Frank. ' She did not expect him to announce 
his coming by any noise of the paddle, knowing well that 
he would propel his canoe by sculling without lifting 
the paddle out of the water. So when he glided into 
view, he seemed to her like a ghostly apparition from 
another world, causing her a momentary start. With- 
out speaking a word, she stepped into her canoe, loosed 
it from its fastenings, sat down in the stern and, offer- 
ing up a silent prayer for safety and for her father and 
mother's forgiveness, let her canoe drift away from the 
rock, and aided by the now favoring wind and the cur- 
rent which always sets toward the outlet, she cut the 
gordian knot which bound her to home and kindred. 
The die was cast ; she had given up everything, father, 
mother, brothers, home and tribe, and ventured out 
upon the unexplored sea of marital bliss or misery. She 
sat passive in her canoe without motion or speech, and 
with it drifted with the wind and the current as they 
listed. Anita was dreaming of the unknown future, of 
the perils that lay before them, of the promised home 
in the far-away regions which Frank had christened 
" Our Lake " — our lake, hers and his — " Our Lake," 
where all the joys that could ever be hoped for by a 
true loving maid were to be hers. And she thought of 
the letter written on birch bark which she had left ad- 
dressed to her father, mother and brothers, telling them 
how she had gone away with her heart's choice, apolo- 
gizing for the manner of her going, because of their 



166 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

pronounced opposition to her marrying one of her own 
race. She thought of the scene that would ensue when 
they found their canoes gone, of their anger when the 
telltale letter would be discovered, and their chagrin to 
know that her future husband was to be Frank Tal- 
munt, who was well known to them by reputation. 

What was Frank doing the while ? He was captur- 
ing the drifting pirogue and the four canoes, stringing 
them out into a tow-line and doing so without making 
noise enough to cause alarm. When his task was done, 
he was soon alongside of Anita's canoe, and being now 
out of sight and hearing of her kindred, he clasped her to 
his breast. While thus locked in each other's arms and 
drifting with wind and stream, the waning hours of 
the early morning but too soon fled away. When 
Aurora flecked the eastern sky with rosy blushes, they 
were even then at the outlet of the lake. Before enter- 
ing the river, Frank hid and secured the canoes and the 
pirogue behind a mass of rank vegetation on the right- 
hand side. Knowing that Anita was an expert in the 
use of the paddle, he considered it best to descend the 
river with the two canoes rather than one. Leading 
the way, he started down the rapid and tortuous 
stream. Having a good "pitch" of water, they ran 
down to Red Bank, twelve miles from the mouth, be- 
fore stopping for refreshment. Here Anita took her 
fishing-tackle to catch trout for breakfast and Frank 
cut wood and built a fire, brought water from the 



A ROMANCE OF "OUR LAKE" 167 

sparkling river, and soon had water bubbling in the 
kettle, potatoes boiling in the pot and pork rinds sizzling 
in the frying-pan, ready for Anita's catch of fish, which 
she was not long in bringing to camp. After the 
morning meal, Anita washed the dishes and then helped 
Frank in gathering green boughs enough for two of 
Nature's finest mattresses. Frank had brought two 
fine new tents — his own he pitched near the water's 
edge, but behind a mass of alder bushes, so that he 
might be aroused if any one passed during the after- 
noon. Anita's he pitched in a secluded grove of small 
firs about a stone's throw from the river. As they 
were to start when the moon appeared, they slept 
until darkness and the chill of night awoke them. 
They paddled all night, and bright and early next 
morning Anita, as before, set out to catch fish and 
Frank to get the fire going and the water boiling. 
Breakfast was finished, and they were off again before 
the sun was half an hour high. A right glorious run 
of nearly twenty miles brought them down below the 
" Forks," where four branches of the Tobique come to- 
gether, and past Riley's Brook, where they stopped for 
the balance of the day ; here was a famous salmon 
pool. Frank's plan was to run the balance of the river 
entirely by moonlight. As the pitch of water was 
good and the moon nearly at the full, by running at 
night they would avoid chances of meeting canoemen 
coming up the river and thus would prevent news of 



168 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

their whereabouts reaching the islanders, whom they 
were sure would now be after them in hot pursuit. 

It was now night once more, and, taking their 
canoes, they ran down the river by moonlight and slept 
during the daytime, so that when they reached the 
Maliset settlement at the mouth of the Tobique, they 
swept through it in the dark to the accompaniment of 
the barking of a host of dogs. Entering the St. Johns 
River, they paddled up-stream until the Grand Falls 
were reached, where the river makes a sheer plunge of 
one hundred and seventeen feet. They carried their 
canoes around the falls by a good road and were soon 
again on the way. They arrived on the seventh day 
from their start at the lake, at a settlement now called 
"Conners," where they were rejoiced to see Pere 
Lamorieux stepping into a canoe to go down the river 
while a crowd of lumbermen were bidding him good- 
bye at the landing. Frank and Anita pushed their 
canoes alongside of his, and Frank earnestly asked him 
to marry them there and then. The faithful priest 
consented and rejoiced them by telling them that he 
had already published their bans of marriage the 
required number of times. He, therefore, stepped 
ashore and, entering one of the log houses, set up 
an altar. There, surrounded by the astonished lumber- 
men, he made them man and wife. 

The hardy woodsmen insisted upon Celebrating the 
occasion by a rustic dance and then a wedding 



A ROMANCE OF "OUR LAKE" 169 

dinner, which every one enjoyed with great gusto. 
Roast moose, boiled salmon, baked partridges, baked 
potatoes, as white as snow, preserved wild strawberries 
and plenty of rich butter and cream made up the bill 
of fare ; no wonder that the dinner was a success. But 
the lovers must be off if they were to keep ahead of 
the chase. Father Lamorieux promised to watch for 
the expected pursuers as he descended the river, and if 
he met them, to assure them that pursuit was useless, 
as he had made Frank and Anita man and wife, and no 
power on earth could now dissolve the bond. Amid 
the clamor of tin pans, of rousing cheers and of wav- 
ing hats, our lovers stepped into Frank's canoe. They 
now had no use for Anita's canoe, and they could make 
better time against the stream with one canoe than the 
two, so they gave it as a present to Father Lamorieux. 
Thus cheered on their way, they happily pushed up the 
great river and were soon lost to sight. 

Two brooks as clear as crystal form the head waters 
of " Our Lake," and on the right hand of the main 
stream, as you go up to the dam, the larger of the two 
plunges down the side of a ridge in a succession of 
bounding leaps, the tumultuous waters cutting a sharp 
gash in the side of the ridge. Here and there is a 
shelf, where the water has touched solid rock, has 
spread out right and left, and has thus washed away the 
encumbering soil leaving a space large enough to build 
a cabin or two upon. One of these is so high above 



170 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

the valley and screened so effectually from it by its 
curtain of white wood and fir trees that the smoke and 
light from an evening fire cannot be seen from be- 
low. In such a secluded location no one would ever 
think of looking for any sign of civilized life. Here 
game of all kinds was abundant at the time about 
which I am writing, and the two brooks and the 
lake were full of square-tailed trout. Charley Nicholas 
had discovered this cul-de-sac when he had been run- 
ning a line of traps some years previously, and he 
and Frank had planned that the place should be their 
future home. 

After finishing the rude house and a shed in 
which to hang game and prepare skins for market, 
Nicholas made his way across country to head off 
Frank, if possible. When he arrived at the mouth of 
Churchill Brook, which empties into Amsuzkis Lake, 
he found a place from which he could scan the lake for 
a long distance. Here he waited and watched, and on 
the second day he was rewarded by seeing a canoe 
coming up with a man and a woman in it, both pad- 
dling with might and main. When they were within 
hearing, Charley beckoned them to turn into the mouth 
of the brook, which was like the letter " S " in shape, 
while a piece further on, the lake made an abrupt turn 
to the right. 

As may be surmised, the canoe contained the newly 
married ones, who were being closely followed by two 



A ROMANCE OF "OUR LAKE" 171 

canoes in which were Anita's father and brothers and 
Kasota. As no time was to be lost, the canoe pushed 
on up the brook to the head of the letter " S," Charley 
Nicholas posting himself as before on the lookout point. 
In twenty minutes the two canoes swept into view and 
rapidly passed the mouth of the brook. Rounding 
the corner into the lake and not seeing Frank's canoe, 
the men evidently came to the conclusion that he had 
slipped into the mouth of the brook. They turned 
back and pushed into the opening, and so close were 
they to where Charley Nicholas lay concealed that 
he could easily hear their every word. Kasota was 
strongly advising them to push on without wasting 
time in searching the mouth of every brook, and they 
would be sure to overtake the runaways at Mud Pond 
Carry, a portage of two and one-half miles over one of 
the worst roads on the continent. Joe Sebattis advised 
a close search in the mouth of every brook, but as no 
suspicious signs were discovered in Churchill Brook, he 
gave the word to turn about and make for Mud Pond 
Carry. Their departure was very welcome to Nicholas 
and more so to Anita, who had overheard a portion 
of the conversation. When the two canoes were out of 
sight, the now happy trio told and retold the story 
of the wedding, of the long flight up the St. Johns, 
how they were nearly overtaken in the " Nigger " rapids 
because of the breaking of Anita's paddle, how they 
providentially met a passing canoe and from it ob- 



172 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

tained the loan of a spare paddle, how, from the high 
rock above Allegash Falls on the Allegash River, they 
again sighted the pursuers, how they slipped into the 
mouth of the Musquacook stream, when the pace be- 
came too hot, then carried their canoe across a sharp 
bend into the Musquacook ; and so the chase went 
on, through Round Lake, up the Allegash quick 
water, through Long Lake to their present stopping 
place. 

Nicholas's plan was to wait a couple of days 
where they were, then to go ahead and cross Cham- 
berlain Lake and from the far shore of that lake make 
a long carry right over to " Our Lake," a distance of 
say twelve miles. Nicholas argued that by this plan 
they would win out in the race because the others 
would keep on until they finally reached Kineo, on 
Moosehead Lake, and not finding the fugitives there, 
they would wait and wait until the danger of the 
streams freezing up would compel them to return 
home, discomfited and beaten, and before another 
summer arrived the bitterness of defeat would have 
been allayed and a reconciliation might be effected. 
This scheme was adopted, the long carry of twelve 
miles with the canoe and its impedimenta was made 
in a day, and once in the lodge at the head of " Our 
Lake " they gave a sigh of relief and cast care to the 
winds, for here was in very truth a haven of rest fit for 
any prince or princess in the land. 



A ROMANCE OF "OUR LAKE" 173 

And as for Frank and Anita — 

"From that day forth, in peace and joyous bliss 
They lived together long without debates, 
Nor private jars, nor spite of enemies, 
Could shake the safe assurance of their states." 



PART II 

A Hunting Trip in Northern British 
Columbia 



CHAPTER XVIII 
OFF FOR THE WILDS 

For years I have been dreaming, at times by night, 
but more often by broad daylight, of that time in some 
far-off wilderness of the extreme northwest of this 
great continent, when, accoutered with rifle and hunt- 
ing-knife, I should meet a big, fine specimen of the 
ursus horrihilis, or in plain English a grizzly bear, face 
to face, and should down him. 

In consequence of this yearning, during the early 
part of the year much time was spent in correspond- 
ence with game commissioners, game wardens, railway 
officials, hunters and guides regarding the most likely 
locality for coming in contact with his majesty — the 
grizzly. From all accounts, the Bear Lake region, in 
the far northwestern part of British Columbia, seemed 
to offer the best chance of success. 

The good offices of the Philadelphia representative 
of the Canadian Pacific Railroad were solicited, and he 
took care that Ave should have the best attention from 
the officials along his line. Our party consisted of Dr. 
W. E. Hughes, of Philadelphia, scientist with Peary's 
first expedition ; Dr. W. J. Eoe, of the staff of the Jef- 
ferson Hospital ; Dr. W. R. Roe, his brother ; and the 
writer. 



178 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

It was a hot afternoon when our train pulled out of 
the station in Philadelphia at 4 : 30 p. m., August 24th, 
bound for our long, long journey to the far northwest. 
The air in the sleeping car was heavy and stiflingly hot. 

The passengers soon divested themselves of their sur- 
plus clothing, and substituted the lightest things they 
had with them. " A lady faire," who enjoyed the 
comforts of the drawing-room compartment all by 
" her lonesome," set an example to the other ladies in 
the car of how to make the best of a " hot situation." 

She entered the car with a rustle and swish of silken 
garments, which in the privacy of the drawing-room 
speedily gave way to gauze and muslins. Then she 
opened the door looking into her little parlor, and we 
all could see her stretched out upon the settee or 
lounge, a picture of solid comfort. 

A mannish woman with a piercingly sharp voice 
paid assiduous attention to an aged man — presumably 
her father. She talked much and "her speech was 
like a tangled chain ; nothing impaired, but all dis- 
ordered." She sat with her father most of the after- 
noon and the following forenoon in the men's smoking 
compartment, and while he smoked long, black cigars 
she puffed away at her favorite cigarettes, and that 
sharp voice of hers effectually stilled most of the other 
smokers' voices. 

An affectionate old couple sat opposite to us ; the 
woman with silver hair, the husband with none of any 



OFF FOR THE WILDS 179 

color, amused the writer very much by their quaint 
ways. They were bound for the Seattle exposition, 
and, as the train rushed along through the hills and 
valleys of the Keystone state, everything seemed new 
and startling to them. The wife once, on returning 
from the women's compartment, got by her husband 
without seeing him, and was just turning into the nar- 
row passageway at the far end of the car when he 
called to her in a high, querulous voice : 

" Be ye a-goin' to leave me, E-liz-a ? " 

She turned around much confused, and when her old 
eyes once more guided her to where the lover of her 
youthful days sat she said : 

"Leave ye, Asa? Leave ye? No, no. I'll never 
leave you while I live." 

How they cackled and laughed over this tiny inci- 
dent, it would have done your heart good to see, be- 
cause she admitted that she was real " skart " when she 
missed him. 

A man sitting behind us evinced a strong desire to 
be sociable. He was returning to his home in Missouri 
after having made his first visit to Philadelphia. He 
was a merchant out there, and had been for thirty-four 
years accustomed to visit New York twice a year to 
buy goods. He had recently heard about the " stop- 
over privilege " at Philadelphia, so he bought a ticket 
over the " Pennsy," which gave him the right to stop 
off at the Quaker City for ten days. He first went to 



180 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

the seashore and then back to the big city, where he 
went to see Fairmount Park. He had all these years 
been buying ready-made clothing of a house in Phila- 
delphia. He called upon these people and was so im- 
pressed with the size and merits of their plant and the 
courteous treatment which he received that he now 
says it will be Philadelphia for him twice a year after 
this. 

Citizens generally do not realize what an advantage 
this stop-over privilege is to every one engaged in 
business in the city. Merchants of the west, the north- 
west and southwest are finding out now more than 
ever before that in addition to the permission given to 
" break the journey," as our English cousins put it, 
they can ride over the best-appointed railway system 
in the world and buy in the best markets for many 
lines of goods in the whole United States. 

This Missourian was loud in praise of the fine 
scenery and well-kept and prosperous-looking farms of 
the old Keystone state. And next morning as the 
train sped through the state of Ohio and a portion of 
Indiana the contrast between the farms in these states 
and our OAvn was very marked, indeed. 

The farms in Ohio seemed to be particularly slovenly 
kept. On many of them the weeds outranked in 
growth the crops themselves. 

We arrived at Chicago in a rain. The time-table 
gave us an hour and a half to go from the Pennsylvania 




<o 



rt 



u 



OFF FOR THE WILDS 181 

station to the "Wisconsin Central, and Ave felt sure we 
should have plenty of time and to spare, but it was an 
hour and twenty minutes before our baggage appeared 
at the train for St. Paul. A new trunk, built to order 
and most carefully made to withstand the iniquity of 
any baggageman, had already come to grief in having 
the lock broken off. 

An inspection of the interior showed as soon as the 
lid was opened that a bottle of Scotch which had been 
incased in a straw cover and again in a corrugated 
wrapper and then rolled up in an army flannel shirt 
was smashed and the contents had soaked through and 
through our collection of hunting toggery. The bag- 
gageman on the train said that the " foul deed " had 
been done in the Chicago station, where they will not 
wait to remove the trunks from the trucks singly, but 
dump the truck load on the floor of the baggage-room 
" at one fell s\voop," one on top of the other, and aAvay 
they go for more. 

The night we left Chicago Avas intensely hot and 
muggy, and in consequence my underclothing had be- 
come Avet with perspiration. A bright thought of 
mine Avas to hang it up in front of the lower windoAV 
in my berth, and there it Avould dry during the night ; 
but, behold ! Ave ran into a dense fog, . and as a result 
it AA r as soaking Avet in the morning and covered with 
soot and coal ashes into the bargain. In lieu of these 
garments I put on a bathing suit and my outer clothes 



182 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

over them and awaited an opportunity to get to the 
baggage-car for a change of underwear. 

This car was next to the engine, and was locked, so 
that I had to jump off at a stopping place and sprint 
forward to reach the car before the train started. The 
conductor paid no attention to me, and before I got to 
the car door at the side he had given the signal to 
start, and off the train went, with every vestibuled 
door closed behind me, so that my retreat by the rear 
was thus cut off. The baggageman was in the act of 
closing his sliding door. I yelled to him to give me a 
lift, as I was in trouble— and that was as true as gospel. 
He stooped down and gave me his hand. I placed my 
right foot against the iron brace below the door, and 
presto ! I was pulled up and into the car. 

It required some searching to find a suit of under- 
wear that didn't have any spirits soaked through it. 
With the aid of a friendly newspaper spread upon the 
floor to stand on, I was able to undress and dress again 
in comfort, as there was plenty of room to work in. 

The new grain elevators in course of erection in 
the section of country we were now passing through 
are mostly being built with reinforced concrete, while 
the up-to-date farmers are having steel granaries built 
for their own use which are weather and wind proof 
and fire proof as well. Oh, the sight of some of the 
yet-growing crops, of the crops being harvested and of 
those cut and already thrashed, and of the number of 



OFF FOR THE WILDS 183 

plows at work in breaking the ground for next year's 
planting, is in itself worth coming out here to see ! 
No living man in t}ie past ever saw such an extent of 
bountiful crops everywhere in Pennsylvania, Ohio, 
Indiana, North Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Sas- 
katchewan, Alberta and Assiniboia as can be seen at 
the present time. 

It is a revelation of this country's resources, a har- 
binger of great prosperity, when every man who needs 
work or who wants to work and will work may have all 
the work that he can do and at good wages as well. The 
product of the millions of acres of wheat, of oats and 
of flax which are now nearly ready for the markets of 
the world, and which will command the highest prices 
ever paid for grain at this season of the year — except- 
ing during war time — must, when sold, set all the idle 
mills a-going and keep the furnaces at white heat and 
fill the empty freight cars to overflowing and the sail- 
ing and steam vessels to bursting with the golden 
grain. "Wherever we went trains of cars were waiting 
to be loaded. Others already loaded were blocked in 
the sidings. The local elevators in the minor towns 
were reported filled to their limit, and the tide 
has but just started. It was a glorious and inspiriting 
spectacle, this veritable sea of grain and of flax, 
which stretched away as far as the eye of man could 
see. 

One of the passengers who had been a member of 



184 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

our diplomatic corps in Chile broke into an enthusiastic 
outburst of gladness at the sight of the great harvest. 
He said : 

"I wouldn't have missed this glorious vision, for 
vision it is, for a great deal. Oh, what a country we 
have to boast of. Just see how nice and snug the sky 
fits down over everything on this prairie. I can't blame 
a settler here if he should become a confirmed egotist, 
because wherever he stands or wherever he looks he is 
the ' centre of the universe.' Look at all of this wealth 
of wheat and of oats and just think of our fool United 
States Senate which says you shan't take a bushel of 
this wheat over into God's country without paying 
twenty-five cents' duty upon it, or a bushel of those 
white oats without paying fifteen cents, or a bushel of 
potatoes without paying more than their cost. I'm a 
Kepublican and always have been, but I'll be gol- 
darned if I don't vote for a Democrat for congressman 
at the next election. Now, folks, you just watch me 
and see how I'll shout for the Democratic candidate^ 
no matter who he is." 

Let us say a word more about the crops. On the 
train was a gentleman from Philadelphia who is one of 
a company of Quaker City capitalists now engaged in 
farming a tract of land forty-five miles back of Moose 
Jaw. This company is called " The Overbrook Wheat 
Farms Co." They purchased 3,040 acres at less than 
twenty dollars per acre, and then purchased the latest 



OFF FOR THE WILDS 185 

and most efficient mechanical appliances for use on the 
farm. 

They plow with a gasoline machine which cuts six 
furrows as it glides majestically along, and this is fol- 
lowed by a gigantic harrow — also propelled by the gas 
made from gasoline— which literally tears and rips the 
sods to shreds. If a ditch is needed, a trenching 
machine is started across a field that digs the ditch and 
throws out the excavated material upon the banks at 
the same time. 

Last year being their first, they broke up 500 acres 
and planted this tract with wheat and oats, both crops 
— and mighty crops they are — being now ready for the 
reaper. Next year 1,500 acres more will be broken up, 
and that also planted with grain, and so on until the 
whole tract is under cultivation. Two gangs of men 
are kept at work at good wages. 

Gang No. 1 starts at 3 a. m., works until 7, then 
rests. Gang No. 2 starts at 7 and works until 12. 
Then gang No. 1 again takes hold and quits at 5. 
No. 2 follows and works as long as the moonlight will 
permit. But, mind you, the machines are going all the 
time — eighteen hours a day. Contrast this with a pair 
of horses which reach their limit of endurance with 
eight hours of plowing, and then cut but one furrow at 
a time. This Behemoth cuts six furrows in less time 
than the horses can cut one furrow ; and it works 
double the length of time. Marvelous, isn't it ? It is 



186 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

needless to say that my Philadelphia friend was as 
much entranced with the monumental harvest and its 
attendant activities as any of us. 

The train was crowded with people for the Seattle 
exhibition, and among them were many school 
" marms " en route for Tacoma and Seattle, where the 
schools open on the 1st of September. One of these 
teachers, a bright and earnest little woman, told us that 
there were 700 teachers in Seattle, and in Tacoma, 400, 
many of whom spent their summers East and their 
winters on the " coast " teaching. 

A stout woman who had been unable to get a lower 
berth, although she had tried at Chicago and St. Paul, 
finally became angry, and, addressing the other occu- 
pants of the car with much energy, she said : 

" I'm not going to climb up to my roost like a 
chicken. If the company doesn't give me a lower 
berth, I will keep every passenger awake all night, for 
I'll sing ' Shall We Gather at the River.' I will pray 
aloud and I'll tell stories, so that nobody can sleep." 
Alas for her, it was of no use ; this dire threat didn't 
bring her a lower berth. And she finally had to " go 
up to roost like a chicken," after all. If she had tried 
the mild method of appeal she would have had her 
heart's desire, but no man wants to be threatened in 
order to grant a favor. 

A superannuated Methodist minister, who has been 
kept busy for the past decade in stirring up various 



OFF FOR THE WILDS 187 

churches to give more freely in paying off church 
debts, was also headed for Seattle, accompanied by his 
wife. On our first night in the car I was sound asleep, 
with my back toward the aisle, when about one o'clock 
in the morning I was awakened by some one gently 
trying to push me over in the berth, while a voice said 
in a half whisper, so as not to awaken the other 
sleepers : 

" Turn over, turn over, Annie." 

Then I turned over with a vengeance and asked the 
man — for it was the preacher — what he wanted me to 
turn over for. I wasn't "Annie." He apologized 
again and again and then found his berth, which was 
across the aisle. I told his wife about the incident in 
the morning, and she was much perturbed over it, and 
in confidence she told another woman, and in this way 
all the women got to hear of it, and what a cackling 
there was after that. 

Ashcroft, where we leave the Canadian Pacific Rail- 
road, derives its importance chiefly from the fact that 
it is the starting point of the famous " Cariboo wagon 
road," which runs to the Frazer River, to and through 
the mining regions of Lillouvet, Quesnelle Forks, 
Quesnelle lakes, Cottonwood, Stanley and Barkerville, 
the latter town being the terminus of the main stem of 
the road. The stage line passing over the road is 
operated by the British Columbia Express Company. 

It has a splendid equipment of stages, stables and 



188 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

horses. The time made on the various roads, which 
aggregate altogether 650 miles, is as fast as any one 
could wish for. There is no stinginess about the use 
of horses. Our first day's run took us to the " Eighty- 
three-mile House," and for that trip twenty-two horses 
were used — four relays of four horses each and one of 
six. The second day's trip carried us beyond the " One- 
himdrecl-and-fifty-mile House," to Soda Creek, and 
thirty-six horses were employed in pulling the stage — 
six relays of six horses each. The animals were fat, 
well groomed and full of life. 

The fare from Ashcroft to Barkerville is $38.50, 
while the rate for carrying merchandise is twelve and 
a half cents per pound. Over the road an enormous 
amount of freight is hauled in wagons made on the old 
prairie schooner build, with rounded canvas covers. 
Two of these wagons are hitched together, and they 
are hauled with from six to eight horses. The out- 
ward trip for these freight wagons to Barkerville takes 
about twenty-three days, while the return trip with the 
empty wagons occupies perhaps thirteen days. The 
lowest freight charges are six dollars per hundred 
pounds. 

The stages stop to deliver and pick up mail at almost 
every house along the route. During summer and fall 
months a stage leaves Ashcroft Monday mornings at 
four o'clock and is due in Barkerville, about three hun- 
dred miles away, at 3 p. m. the following Thursday. 



OFF FOR THE WILDS 189 

The second day of the trip is the hardest. Leaving 
" Eighty-three-mile House " at 4 a. m., " One-hundred- 
and-fifteen-mile House" is reached in time for lunch, 
" One-hundred-and-fifty-mile House " is reached for 
supper, and at Soda Creek, on the Frazer Eiver, the 
day's run ends at about 11 p. m. 

The distance traveled for the day from start to finish 
is about ninety-one miles. The road leads up one 
mountainside and down another — up and down all day 
long, with very little level ground. The road is a good 
one ; considering its length, and the character of the 
country through which it passes, it is superlatively good. 

We were very courteously treated in Ashcroft by 
the British Columbia Express people, the Canadian 
customs official, the post-office employees and the hotel 
men. One of our trunks got astray, and much tele- 
graphing was needed to locate it. When that was 
finally done and we were sure of its final arrival the 
following morning, we went to bed. 

At 3 : 30 a. m. we were up and off to the express 
office, where all the baggage was taken out of the 
trunks and repacked in dunnage bags. We left at 
4:30. 

Besides the stage proper, drawn by four horses, 
which contained nine passengers and the mail, there 
were two other rigs drawn by two horses each and 
carrying eight more passengers — seventeen in all. 
We saw the first game of the trip three miles from 



190 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

Ashcroft. It was a black tailed doe with a nearly 
full-grown fawn. They were feeding in a valley, and 
hearing us coming they ran across the road and up the 
side of a steep mountain. 

One of our party dreamed of bear, talked of bear, 
and was really bear crazy. When we arose on Tues- 
day morning at u Eighty-three-mile House," he walked 
over to the barn, and soon came back panting for 
breath. He had just seen a black bear walking past 
the barn. 

" "Where's my gun ? Oh, not my gun — my rifle ! " 
he said. The landlord, seeing the agitation that he 
was in, asked him what was the matter, and when he 
told him about the big, ambling bear that he had seen, 
the landlord simply smiled and said : 

" I own a large Newfoundland dog, and he often 
goes to the barn." 

Our portly doctor thereupon looked chopfallen and 
said nothing more about the bear. 

We passed a somewhat notable caravan near " One- 
hundred-mile House." There were eight horses pulling 
two prairie schooners. Two of the horses had colts, 
which ran alongside their mothers. The drivers were 
Indians, and at the rear was a young squaw riding 
astride on a pony. Strapped to her back was a cradle 
covered with an old shawl. In the cradle was a papoose, 
and when it cried the mother gently shook her back, 
which rocked the baby with a rotary motion from side 



OFF FOR THE WILDS 191 

to side. This evidently pleased the little papoose, as it 
would soon stop crying. 

At " One-hundred-and-fifty-mile House " the road 
turns almost due west, the objective point being Soda 
Creek, a famous landing point on the Frazer Kiver. 

We left " One-hundred-and-fifty-mile House " at about 
5 : 30 P. m., and had the most enjoyable ride of the trip. 

The scenery is grand, and at a few miles from Soda 
Creek the road commences to drop down some 
1,100 feet to the level of the Frazer Eiver. The moon 
was at the full, and such a moon I never, never saw ! 
It appeared to be as large again as it does to us in the 
East ; it was really like a second sun. 

By its light we rushed on behind six splendid horses 
— up mountains, along the edges of canyons yawning 
hundreds of feet below us, down into the valley, around 
sharp bends, through dense groves of poplar trees and 
Douglas firs, and over bridges crossing swift-running 
streams. Then, with brakes on, we would plunge down 
at such a rate as to make us hold our breath. But that 
wonderful moon lighted up our way most of the dis- 
tance, and we arrived safe and sound at the river's 
edge, happy that we had had such a unique experience. 

At Soda Creek the stern-wheel steamer Charlotte 
was awaiting us. And here we found Howard "W". 
Dubois, a famous mining engineer in these parts, who 
lives in the winter time in Philadelphia. He is un- 
doubtedly one of the best-known and most frequently 



192 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

quoted men in this section. He was on his way to 
Vancouver, and would take our stage back to 150-mile 
house, starting from Soda Creek at midnight. 

Our steamer left at the same hour for Quesnelle, 
sixty-five miles above, and we, being very tired from 
our nineteen hours of staging, were soon in bed and 
sound asleep. 

When we sat down to breakfast we found that the 
steamer had made extra good time against a six-mile 
current, and in three hours would be at Quesnelle, 
about four hours ahead of her regular time. This was 
on account of the splendid light of the full moon, 
which enabled us to travel at full speed all night long. 

The first thing worthy of observance about the 
famous Frazer River is the number of " busted " mining 
enterprises, the wrecks of which can be seen at inter- 
vals, first on one side and then on the other — mute 
evidence of blasted hopes, ruined fortunes and perhaps 
of many tragedies in frontier life. 

We saw a big dredge which had been hauled out on 
the bank of the river because the finding of gold by 
dredging had been unprofitable or impossible at that 
location. The spring and the fall floods had piled up 
sand, stones and floating snags around it, so that it 
was all submerged excepting the topmost parts. A 
man on the boat told us that there were at least twelve 
of these derelicts on the river between Soda Creek and 
Fort George. 



OFF FOR THE WILDS 193 

The furnace of our steamer was fired with pine wood, 
and it took four men to carry the wood fast enough 
to keep the steam up to the proper notch. She draws 
but two feet of water, and another one is being built 
by the same company which will draw only sixteen 
inches. Her name is to be The City of Quesnelle. 

We made some purchases in the Hudson Bay Com- 
pany's store at Quesnelle, and received much valuable 
information from Mr. Collins, the manager in charge, 
a man, by the way, who looks like a twin brother to 
our friend Joseph B. McCall, of Philadelphia, and on 
account of this striking resemblance he permitted us 
to " snap him with a kodak." 

This gentleman told us that the fur trade in this 
district had been seriously injured because of the many 
surveying parties that have been in the wilderness for 
three years past. These parties pay as high as $3.50 
per day to the Indian guides, and that is so much more 
than they can get by trapping that they have abandoned 
their old pursuits. This, of course, is better for the 
fur-bearing animals, so that " all's well that ends well." 

We now took to the stage again for a trip of some sixty 
miles to Barkerville, the terminus of this famous stage 
line. We had of course fewer passengers than when 
we started, because many had gone on up the Frazer 
River to Fort George, where many people were awaiting 
opportunity of going yet farther north to the wonderful 
Nechaco valley. Here settlers are arriving from many 



194 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

parts of the old world and from " the states " to take 
up and occupy the rich bottom lands in this great 
valley. The Grand Trunk Pacific Railroad, when com- 
pleted, will run through the centre of this immense 
tract of land, once the bed of a now dried up lake. 

At one of the stops we made to change horses, the 
man in charge of the stable told us of a fracas he had 
had the previous night with a black bear and two cubs 
that had been " a-botherin' of" him for many nights 
past. He managed to kill the mother bear and one of 
the cubs, the other one getting away. The man was 
much wrought up over the incident, and had we been 
willing he would have kept us for an extra hour in 
telling the story. 

This portion of the journey was very interesting in- 
deed. For many miles the road led along the side of a 
mountain near its top, and a sharp lookout had to be 
kept for teams coming from the opposite direction, as 
the road is but narrow and the passing of teams at this 
high elevation is a ticklish performance, with a deep 
canyon on one side and a precipitous mountain on the 
other. In the winter time occasionally a stage — then 
of course set on runners — slides over the edge and down 
into the canyon below ; but, with deep snow on the 
slope, there are rarely any fatalities. Of course there 
will be bruises in plenty, broken harness, and perhaps 
damaged merchandise. 

One of the houses where we stopped to change 




Co 



& 



pq 



X 



Q 



OFF FOR THE WILDS 195 

horses was presided over by an aged Scotchman and 
his wife. The latter is famous for her cooking, and the 
meal she set before us only added to her reputation. 
In an old music book I found a song that I had not 
heard for nearly twoscore of years, and then it was 
sung by a dear sweetheart of mine with such pathos 
and sweetness that its memory lingers with me still. 
" My Mother Bids Me Bind My Hair " was the title. 
Another old favorite was found in the same book, 
"^Jock o' Hazledean." The good dinner, the cheery 
talk of the old Scotch woman, and the songs of bygone 
days sent me away in rare good spirits and with fond 
memories that will last for many and many a day. 

We arrived in Barkerville Thursday night at six 
o'clock, three hours late, caused by the necessity of 
shoeing some horses and mending a break in the stage. 
Barkerville is a mining town pure and simple. AH 
frame houses, with sidewalks about four feet above the 
level, varying in height in different spots, with steps 
leading down to the street on each side. This is neces- 
sary because of the great depth of snow in the winter. 

The glory of the town has long since departed, as a 
majority of the formerly famous gold mines have been 
worked out. In a ride of, say, forty miles we saw a 
number of abandoned mines, a very small portion of 
them having ever produced enough gold to pay ex- 
penses. Only two mines that we saw were in opera- 
tion, one being worked by three Chinamen, and report 



196 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

said they barely made a living out of it. However one 
mine is being worked near the town upon a very large 
scale, and the profits are said to be considerably over a 
hundred thousand dollars a year. There are some 
smaller mines which we did not see that are also pay- 
ing fairly well. 

We inspected one mine which was to be operated upon 
quite an expensive plan of dredging. We asked how 
long it had been since work was started upon it, our 
informant saying : 

" I have been here four years, and it was being pre- 
pared then." 

" When do you expect to start ? " 

" I don't know. We have sunk a vertical shaft 190 
feet deep, and at the bottom of that we have dug and 
blasted out another shaft 220 feet in a horizontal line. 
We have installed a big turbine, big walking-beam and 
all kinds of machinery ; but when we'll start no one 
seems to know." 

" Have you taken out any gold at all ? " 

" Not a dollar's worth," he replied. 

We came to a mining enterprise with four houses 
erected for the officials of the company — a fine plant, 
filled with machinery and every kind of implement for 
mining, and all of the properties were closed up and 
deserted. Window blinds Avere still shading the win- 
dows, the former occupants evidently thinking they 
were not worth carrying away. 



OFF FOR THE WILDS 197 

We passed a lot of iron piping — enough to fill a large 
field — that had been sent all the way from England. 
The freight from the railroad to where it lay was seven 
cents per pound ; the freight on the railroad and the 
ocean freight together was fourteen cents per pound, 
and each length cost $100. When the stuff arrived 
the mine it was intended for had been abandoned, and 
there the pipe lies rusting away in the sun, rain and snow. 

We outfitted here for our hunting grounds. And 
considering the expense and time in getting the mer- 
chandise up here, we were surprised that the prices 
were so moderate. 

It may be of interest to note what we took with us 
and what it cost, which was as follows : 

200 pounds of flour @ $10 per 100 $20.00 

3 pouuds tea @ 50 cents 1.50 

8 pounds whole coffee @ 50 cents 4.00 

3 boxes matches for 25 

10 pounds salt @ 10 cents pound 1.00 

100 pounds bacon @ 30 cents 30.00 

60 pounds sugar @ 13 cents 7.80 

50 pounds beans @ 12J cents 6.25 

25 pounds rice @ 13 cents 3.25 

20 pounds butter @ 56 cents 11.20 

1 pound pepper 50 

4 pounds candles @ 25 cents 1.00 

1 case 4 dozen condensed cream @ $2.50 10.00 

10 pounds prunes @ 20 cents 2.00 

10 pounds dried apples @ 20 cents 2.00 

20 pounds lard @ 25 cents 5.00 

5 pounds cheese @ 25 cents 1.25 

10 pounds cornmeal @ 12£ cents 1.25 

10 pounds oatmeal 1.00 



198 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

The total of the bill was $114. In addition to this, 
we, of course, had to pay for the packhorses, five of 
them, to pack the stuff on, which cost twenty dollars 
more. 

Our licenses cost $100 each, and were the first that 
had been sold at this government office this season, 
other people having purchased their licenses before 
arriving here. The provincial and the dominion 
officials, as well as the leading business men, treated 
us with great courtesy and kindness. One of the men 
we met — a Mr. Bailey, had been educated in the Penn 
Charter School, Philadelphia. He was formerly em- 
ployed as a civil engineer on the Pennsylvania Railroad, 
but he prefers the life out here to that in the Quaker 
City. We were to have left Barkerville early Friday 
morning, but the five cayuse horses which were to 
have taken us to Bear Lake strayed away during the 
night and it took some hours to gather them up once 
more. 

We had engaged five Siwash Indians with their five 
ponies to " pack " our outfit. But these men took their 
own time for starting, and, although they promised 
much, they put off their departure until the next day. 
So we ourselves left Barkerville at 1 p. m. over the 
famous Bear River trail. The first eight miles were 
over a fairly good road. 

And this we did at a brisk trot. After that it was a 
ride over a trail from two feet to two feet six wide, up 



OFF FOR THE WILDS 199 

one side of a mountain and down the other, with two 
places where the trail went up at an angle of forty-five 
degrees and came down on the other side at even a 
sharper pitch, the cayuses frequently sliding down hill, 
that being easier than walking and safer. The trail 
passed through some very thick underbrush, at times 
higher than the horses' heads. In the tangled mass 
were blueberries, a few raspberries, elderberries, fire- 
weed, great masses of wild rose bushes with scarlet 
seed pods, maiden hair ferns, tansy, sassafras, purple 
asters, squaw pinks, Queen Ann's lace, etc. 

Bird life was but poorly represented. A few yellow 
hammers, a species of western bluebird, a humming 
bird and one meadow lark, with several " fool-hen " 
grouse, were all that we saw. The twenty-one-mile 
trail was covered in a little over six hours, and we were 
all happy when it was finished. 

So here we are, safe and sound, more than 4,000 
miles from home, in the wildest and roughest kind of 
country, amid wonderful scenery, bracing air and, 
thank God, a cloudless sky, a warm sun, plenty of 
provisions, clothing, ammunition, firearms and cameras 
—everything, in fact, to please and to satisfy both 
mind and body. To-morrow — aye, to-morrow — we'll 
be off for adventures new in the " great, unknown." 



CHAPTER XIX 
SPEARING SALMON IN THE NORTHWEST 

The Siwash Indians with their packhorses, carrying 
our outfit, having failed to turn up on Friday night, 
the next morning we were speculating as to whether 
they would come at all, and if they did, would the 
dunnage bags be brought in with their contents safe 
and sound ? 

However, the great salmon " run " was on and it was 
an interesting sight, and after breakfast we spent 
some time in watching the brilliant scarlet-coated sock- 
eyes, with their green heads and tails — this being their 
nuptial color — and the huge " spring salmon " working 
along the gravelly bottom to the outlet of Bear Lake 
which was but a few hundred yards from the camp. 

It is against the law nowadays to spear salmon, but 
our supplies not having arrived, and the need of some- 
thing to eat being a fitting excuse, we thought we 
might try to secure three or four of the royal fish. 
The first thing that happened furnished us with the 
most ludicrous sight I ever witnessed. 

Dr. W. R,. Roe, one of our pair of " Falstaffs," after 
watching the fish for some time, went to the camp and 
removed part of his clothes. He then put on a cotton 



SPEARING SALMON 201 

undershirt without sleeves and cotton drawers reaching 
to his knees, and thus appareled he waded into the cold, 
swift-running water, armed with a spear with a single 
barb. 

As the fish dodged his clumsy efforts to spear them 
he soon became wonderfully excited, and made rush 
after rush at them, until in one of his " long-distance " 
stabs he went head over heels into a deep pool. 

When he came up he was more in earnest than ever, 
and as he was a good swimmer he laughed at the mis- 
hap of the deep hole. 

" W. J.," his brother, the other Falstaff of the party, 
after laughing until the tears ran down his face at his 
brother's antics, removed his clothes also, put on a union 
suit of dark gray underwear, and, obtaining a three- 
pronged spear, likewise waded in. 

With the first or second thrust at the agile salmon he 
also tumbled into a deep hole, where the stream was 
extra swift and strong. He did not appear for a minute 
or more, and then we saw him swimming upon his 
back, holding the pole of the spear with one hand and 
acting more like an eight-year-old boy than a dignified 
and sedate Philadelphia surgeon. 

W. E. Hughes, the third doctor of the party, had 
been busy taking snapshots of the two doughty spear- 
men from the bank, and he likewise laughed until his 
sides ached, as mine did also. He disappeared for a 
while, and when we saw him once more he was garbed 



202 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

in the same suit that Adam wore when Mother Eve 
first made his acquaintance in the Garden of Eden. 

No fig leaf or cotton or gauze or union suit under- 
wear for " "W. E." ; no, siree. They would only be an 
impediment to him, and so the man, who had braved the 
terrors of a winter in the Arctic regions as scientist 
with Peary's first expedition in search of the North 
Pole, was the first and perhaps the only man who ever 
attempted to spear salmon in the Bear Eiver without 
some garment to modify the coldness of the icy waters. 

I have been writing of " speariug " salmon, but for an 
hour or more their fierce lunges only ended in an oc- 
casional ducking, as the fish were too nimble for them. 

But hold ! Listen to the yell and the paean of victory 
from " W. R.," who at last has pierced a sock-eye 
salmon through and through with his one pronged spear. 
Bearing his trophy aloft, he paraded up and down the 
river in his thin underwear, taunting his brothers in 
medicine with his success and their repeated failures. 
But, listen again ! There's a cry of joy from " W. J.," 
who was " jabbing " at the fish down the river, and he 
also held a sock-eye aloft, but we had seen an ex- 
hausted salmon drifting down the river, and this three- 
fourths dead fish he had, indeed, run his spear through, 
so his " kill " was not allowed and we wouldn't let it 
count. 

Finally, all three " caught on " to the curves neces- 
sary to strike the fish fair and square, and each man 



SPEARING SALMON 203 

landed at least a pair of sock-eye salmon, brilliant of 
color, agile as squirrels, but alas ! poor in flesh and ut- 
terly devoid of flavor. 

After lunch, the four of us, actuated by the same 
motive of obtaining sleep and rest from the grueling 
trip over the Bear Lake trail of the day before, found 
our way to a big circular tent, and there we slept 
soundly for a couple of hours. Kibbee, our guide and 
host, suggested to me that he and I should go down the 
river for three or four miles, and see if there were any 
bear signs, and then we also could see the spawning 
grounds of the salmon, which were strung out for 
over a mile on the gravelly bottom of the river. 

We saw a few signs of black bear on the sandy points 
at the sharp curves of the river as we went down. 
The signs did not appeal to me at all, for I was in the 
presence of one of the most tragical illustrations of the 
truth that nature's first consideration is imperatively 
the reproduction of the species. 

Here we saw thousands upon thousands of spring 
salmon, the males averaging nearly thirty pounds each 
in weight, plunging, diving and " side-stepping " each 
other in their savage efforts to protect the precious 
spawn. 

Every one who has seen the plunging of porpoises on 
the seacoast can have a faint idea of the scene which 
we witnessed if he will multiply the few porpoises thus 
seen by a hundred or more. Remember, too, that the 



204 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

salmon is many times swifter in his movements than the 
leisurely porpoise, and some idea may be obtained of 
the sight which greeted us. The water was like a boil- 
ing cauldron — splash, splash, splash ! the fish were 
jumping in every direction. 

It seems that as soon as the female commences the 
process of depositing the spawn on the gravelly spot, 
which she and her male partner have scooped out, then 
a predatory male makes a rush to eat or destroy the 
precious eggs, while her male gives valiant battle in the 
effort to protect them. When the male has fertilized 
the roe eggs by spraying a fluid called the " milt " over 
them, the seemingly never-ending battle waxes fiercer 
than ever. 

In this melee we saw some big fish literally skinned 
alive. On many of them the dorsal fin was either eaten 
off or torn off, the tail nipped off almost to the bone, 
and numbers of fish were gashed and eaten so badly 
in the furious fighting that they gave up the ghost and 
died. 

In one particular spot eight big fellows were all so 
earnestly fighting that they paid no attention whatever 
to our boat as it floated down the river, and its prow 
passed through the fighting mass, separating the com- 
batants forcibly. Looking back at them after we 
passed, we saw them at it again. It was a fight to the 
finish. 

Strangest of all is it that this fighting does not cease 



SPEARING SALMON 205 

even at night-time. No wonder, then, that, when the 
fateful task of spawning is over, they all die — every one, 
male and female alike. The future of the species is 
then bound up in the destinies of the eggs which they 
have given their lives to produce. 

We went down the river three miles looking at the 
signs of bear on the sand-bars at the edges of the 
stream, then turned and poled back, arriving at camp 
in time for supper. Here we learned that two of our 
doctors, W. E. Hughes and W. E. Eoe, with a guide, 
had undertaken to cross the river in a boat. W. K., 
the stout one, in some way shifted his position in the 
boat amid stream, and over the boat went, tumbling 
them all into the water. As they were all swimmers, 
they got out safely, but had that happened in a lake a 
different story might have been told. 

The Siwash Indians and their packhorses arrived 
with our supplies and dunnage a little before dark. 
The stuff came over the rough trail without any dam- 
age whatever. Their horses were turned out to graze, 
and one of them, a youth of ten years, rolled his trou- 
sers up over his knees, and with a single-pointed spear 
waded into the water of the river up to his middle to 
spear salmon. 

His father, an old, dried-up Indian, smiled with de- 
light as he told me : " He catch um tree fish. He quick, 
good boy. He ride pony stand up " — that is, bareback. 
They were to receive two cents a pound for their work 



206 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

in " packing " our supplies. Two hundred pounds is 
the limit that they will load on one of their horses, and 
if the load weighs any less than that, no allowance is 
made. 

It therefore required five horses carrying two hun- 
dred pounds each, at $4- per head, and their total 
freight bill was $20. In the olden days, when " grub " 
was " packed " on the Indians' backs hundreds of miles, 
the freight on flour or sugar was $1 a pound and on 
potatoes and turnips a half dollar more. One man 
made considerable money by spearing salmon in the 
fall near where our cabin stands, then salting them 
down, and on the snow taking them over the trail to 
Barkerville on dog-sleds and selling them at $1 and 
$1.25 apiece. 

A stove which warms Kibbee's kitchen, and on 
which all the cooking is done, cost $47 to bring over 
the trail only three years ago, and that without count- 
ing his time and labor in helping to drag it on a sled. 
To-day a loaf of bread in Barkerville is two bits (twen- 
ty-five cents). 

In Quesnelle, on the Frazer Kiver, I saw a box of 
raisins opened on a shelf in a grocery store. Although 
a year old, they looked to be in good condition, so I 
asked the proprietor to weigh me out a pound. 

Then I asked him how much. " Four bits " (fifty 
cents) was the laconic answer. In Barkerville there is 
no single article priced at less than " two bits " except- 



SPEARING SALMON 207 

ing postage stamps, and, of course, the government sees 
to it that they, at any rate, shall be sold at the face 
value. 

It can easily be imagined that the mails must neces- 
sarily carry a great deal of freight, as the cost of one 
cent per ounce up to four pounds in weight enables a 
large assortment of different kinds of merchandise to 
be forwarded in the very quickest time at the minimum 
postal rate. 

For instance, I mailed in Philadelphia to a friend in 
Cottonwood, near Barkerville, two packages, each 
weighing two pounds eight ounces, and they went 
through safely at a total cost of eighty cents. Our 
government must have lost some money upon them ; 
but see what the Canadian Postal Department must 
have lost taking into consideration the three hundred- 
mile stage route over which the packages had to go. 

But there's another side to the problem of values up 
here. The wages of working men in the mines in 
Barkerville and vicinity are $4.50 per day, and Kibbee 
pays $7.50 per day to the guides he uses for our con- 
venience, and we furnish the provisions into the 
bargain. 

This is the tenth day of September, and, as I am 
writing, Henry, the cook, is shelling green peas and 
washing the most tender and delicious lettuce any one 
could wish for, both grown in a little plot near the 
bank of the river. It is pouring rain, and the rain may 



208 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

last for several days ; then the men predict a sudden 
freeze-up, and, presto ! the long, long winter will be 
upon them. 

Last winter the thermometer went to fifty-two de- 
grees below zero, and the snow near Barkerville was 
over seven feet deep ; so that winter away up here 
means something more than a picnic. It means long, 
cold nights, with little daylight, plenty of stars over- 
head and a scarcity of heat from the all-powerful sun 
god. 

We left Bear Lake camp early on Sunday morning, 
our flotilla consisting of three boats, a house-boat, 
manned by two men, to carry the provisions and outfit. 
The other two boats carried three men each, two sports 
and one guide. 

The day was fine, and as this was the real beginning 
of our hunting trip it stirred my blood to feel that first 
jump of the boat as Kibbee, the guide, pushed off from 
the landing. How quickly the camp was left behind ! 
Now all was before us — a new country, a virgin forest, 
new lakes, new rivers, new waterfalls, new mountains. 
Nothing old, yet how very old, but all new to us. 

This trip is to be for us a recreation — we are going 
to tease the unknown — " what is fresh and new in na- 
ture is great, divine." We are seeking adventure. 
The healthy imagination is a daredevil, a pick-lock, a 
break-bolt. In all ages adventure, the great motive 
for all we do, has been loved for itself. There is a 



SPEARING SALMON 209 

north pole at each man's door that invites the spirit of 
adventure. Each human being has a trail to make for 
himself. 

" Koutine starves body and soul, and, in its deadly- 
clutch, we begin to measure the days of life on the 
walls of consciousness like men condemned to death, 
who chalk the passing of the days on the walls of their 
cells that finally fetch them to the rope and trap-door." 

We are now afloat, healthy and free, the world of 
adventure before us, the humdrum work of office and 
of shop behind us. So, farewell for a period to the 
trivialities of life, its fashions, its vagaries and its artifi- 
cial delights. We are about to enjoy the perennial 
passion of living in the open, dreaming or thinking of 
nothing but what every new day may bring to us be- 
fore its precious hours have departed. 

Kenewing our youth by rugged exercise, expanding 
our lungs with air untainted by sulphurous smoke, we 
feel like shouting out with Walt Whitman : " Oh, for 
the open road ! " 

Our way lay through Bear Lake and up the upper 
Bear Eiver to a stream which empties out of Swan 
Lake. Here was the first of Kibbee's trapping camps 
after leaving his home camp. At the mouth of the 
lake, stuck up on the side of this camp, was a piece of 
cardboard, on which was written a notice that at the 
point where we entered Swan Lake stream, fresh meat 
would be found ready for use. This was signed by a 



2io WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

fish commissioner, who was on a tour of inspection look- 
ing for a good place for a hatchery for sock-eye salmon. 

Kibbee and I paddled down and found the cache, 
which contained two fore quarters and a hind quarter of 
a young moose. After eating lunch, our party was 
split up, Drs. "W. J." and " W. R." going with a cook 
and two guides up to Swan Lake to look for moose, 
while Dr. " W. E." and the writer started for a cabin 
nine miles further up Bear River, where we hoped to 
catch sight of a grizzly bear. 

In the other party was a polished, gentlemanly look- 
ing young man, who was acting as bow poleman for 
the house-boat. Thinking him to be one of the guides 
and desiring to become acquainted with them all as 
soon as possible, I said to him, "What is your name?" 

In place of telling me his given name, he gave me 
his family name. 

I then said, " You and I both come from the same 
country." 

" I came from Norfolk, England," he replied. 

We had some further talk, in which he said he ex- 
pected to spend the winter on Bear Lake, and that he 
would go home by way of the Pacific. I advised him 
to cross the continent and visit Philadelphia, in which 
case I would be glad to do the honors for him in the 
Quaker City. He impressed me so much by his modest 
and unassuming manners, his earnest desire to do all of 
the work that was to be done, and by his choice Ian- 




^ 



p 



SPEARING SALMON 211 

guage, that after parting from him I asked Kibbee who 
and what he was. 

" "Well, you see, he came to Barkerville and wanted 
some place to go where he would be among big game 
and where he could learn how to handle boats and 
traps, cut wood and do frontier work generally. He 
was referred to me, and I told him what I would 
charge him per day, and that he could stay as long as 
he liked and leave when he liked ; that I might be 
away a-lookin' after my traps a month or two months 
at a time and he would be left alone. 

" He just smiled and said that wouldn't worry him a 
bit, so I said : 

" ' Well, I want to know all about you before we 
hitch up together.' Then he gave me his name, and it 
was ' Lord ' something or other. 

" So I goes to a friend of mine in Barkerville and 
tells him all about it. So he says : ' If you'll wait, 
I'll look up the English " stud " book, and if he's the 
real thing, he'll be in it.' 

" So he gets the book and runs up one page and 
down another and, sure enough, there was his name, 
all right. 

" You see, my friend's name is also in the ' stud ' 
book, so he knew all about him. When he lighted on his 
name he read about his people who lived long before 
him. I'll tell you this ; he's a willin' worker and isn't 
afraid of any kind of work, although he's not overly 



212 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

strong. He's good company, doesn't have much to say 
and all of us like him." 

We reached our second stopping place at dark, after 
a nine-mile push up the river. The current was so 
swift that the pole had to be used all of the way up. 
The sand beaches on the sides of the river bore the im- 
prints of grizzly bears' feet, and most of them were 
fresh. A few moose tracks were visible where they 
had crossed the river, and beaver tracks and musk 
mounds were very plentiful. 

Kibbee says that on these musk mounds, built of 
small gravel stones, the beavers squeeze out their ex- 
cess of the substance which is called musk. This musk 
is valuable, and is used in the manufacture of perfumes 
and in medicines, and brings, according to demand and 
quality, $4.50 to $16 per pound. 

It is contained in a sack, and its trade name is " cas- 
torium." Trappers have found out that they can set a 
beaver wild by removing a portion of his mound — as 
each beaver has its own — and putting in a little oil of 
aniseed and a few drops of rum. 

The beaver realizes the first thing that here is a 
strange " musk," because he knows his own musk too 
well to believe that the strange odor is his. He 
evidently thinks some other beaver has done this to 
spite him, so he gets mad all through and tears his 
whole mound down and builds a new one. 

In doing this he gets so reckless that he forgets his 



SPEARING SALMON 213 

usual caution, and steps into the trap which has been 
set for him. There's a close time now on all beavers 
south of the Blackwater River, and in consequence 
many are the beaver skins shipped as being from north 
of the Blackwater, whose owners were never within 
three hundred miles of that famous beaver district. 

I told of the capsizing of a boat with Drs. W. E. 
Hughes and W. R. Roe in it. Dr. Hughes treated the 
ducking with indifference, and did not change his wet 
clothes for dry ones. As a consequence, when we sat 
down to our rude meal in the trapper's cabin, he had 
no appetite and complained of a sore throat and cold 
in his head. 

In the morning his pulse had increased twenty beats, 
and he felt bad enough to say that he would stay in 
bed all day, and starve it out. However, I prevailed 
upon him to take a cup of soup, made from lentils. 

In spite of his protests, Kibbee and I took the boat 
and paddled down to the Swan Lake camp. There we 
found that "W. J. Roe and W. R. Roe had not yet 
started for their next camp. "We therefore had dinner 
together, and taking a couple of bottles of medicine, we 
poled up-stream again, making the camp at 7 : 30 p. m. 

Dr. Hughes was much better as a result of his en- 
forced rest, and also from his refraining from food. As 
to the medicines — while he thanked us for bringing 
them, he declined their use, saying that as he was a 
doctor \ he didnH take medicine. 



214 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

Frank D. Kibbee, our mentor, guide and host, by 
this time had shown us that he was all that his friends 
claimed for him, Every one whom we met on the 
journey to Barkerville gave him unstinted praise, and 
after reaching that far-famed town, we received the 
same reports from hotel men, miners and business men 
with whom we talked. 

In his own domain he is " the boss." As a trapper, 
hunter and guide, it is hard to beat him. 

He was born in Montana forty-two years ago, and 
from his earliest boyhood he has always been a trapper. 
He drifted out here ten years back and commenced 
trapping, and was successful from the beginning. It's 
an awfully lonely place now, and was more so then. 

He tried to get an assistant or some man whom he 
could trust to look after his main camp and his pelts 
while he was making the round of his traps. His 
ground covers over one hundred and twenty miles of 
good trapping country, over which he claims the right 
to trap. He must be a rugged man to go over this 
territory, set the traps and look after them properly, 
skin the trapped animals and prepare them for ship- 
ment to London, where they are sold at the annual fur 
sales. 

As an assistant would have to be out in all kinds of 
weather and always to look out for his own food 
supply, it will be seen that it would be no easy job to 
get any one willing to undertake the position. 



SPEARING SALMON 215 

Kibbee considered himself very fortunate in securing 
the services of a squaw, who was a good cook and a 
clean housekeeper, who could trap and shoot almost 
as well as he could, who climbed the highest moun- 
tains with him after mountain goats or bears, and who 
conducted herself with such decorum as to be received 
courteously by the families in Barkerville with whom 
Kibbee was acquainted. 

She was with him for a period of six years, and then 
a yearning for a more nomadic life took possession of 
her and she drifted away. Then he took in an old 
man of seventy, more out of charity than anything 
else, and he stayed with him for over four years, 
Kibbee clothing him and keeping him in comfort. 
Then the old fellow left. 

Now he has another old man of seventy, who cooks 
and looks after his various interests with rare fidelity. 

In the winter time this man, Kibbee, with blanket, 
bait, bacon, axe, skinning knife, matches, and a few 
pounds of flour on a hand sled, trudges forward through 
the wilderness. The northern lights glow in the dis- 
tance and it is bitterly cold, but cold makes finer fur. 
Down far trails in gloomy forests, across the breasts 
of silvered streams, he labors from trap to trap. 
Should he find fifty dollars' worth of fur along the 
whole line of the traps he is content. 

Meat is what the trapper mostly lives upon — meat 
of different kinds and of different degrees of tough- 



216 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

ness or tenderness. Whether it is moose, deer, caribou, 
rabbit, woodchuck, goose, duck or the tail of beaver, it 
matters little so that it be meat. 

To see Kibbee clean up a frying-pan half full of 
moose steak would be an object lesson to a city man, 
who with childish appetite nibbles at a bit of steak and 
must have it covered with sauce or ketchup or mush- 
rooms to make it palatable and appetizing. 

But there must also be some fruit or vegetable food 
to help keep away the scurvy during the long winter 
night. Hence a few pounds of dried apples or of 
prunes should be on the trapper's sled thus to aid 
digestion. 

When he starts out in the late fall the curtain of 
silence cuts him off from the fellowship of the Barker- 
ville trail for many moons, once he lifts the curtain of 
that ghostly woodland. It is paddle and portage for 
days and weeks as he visits lake after lake, pond after 
pond, and river after river. Then the frost crisps 
into silence the foaming water and the lapping lake. 
The grind of running ice warns him it is time to change 
birch bark for moccasin and snow-shoe. The canoe is 
cached, and the trail strikes into the forests of Douglas 
fir and of white and yellow birch. 

When he returns, leaves may be budding on the 
birches and on the willow bushes. 

Once, and only once, the awful loneliness of the 
deep forests overcame Kibbee's nerve, and he threw 



SPEARING SALMON 217 

his traps into the swift running waters of the lower 
Bear River and back to Montana he went ; but six 
months of civilization were enough for this man of the 
woods, mountains, and lakes, and back he came to his 
traps and stretching frames. 

He lifted his traps from the bottom of the river, 
joyfully went the rounds of his trapping lines, setting 
the traps as he went, and now he will bea" child of 
Nature " until an all- wise Providence calls him to his 
own last cache, which in all probability neither graven 
stone nor wooden sign will mark. 



CHAPTER XX 
WATCHING FOR BRUIN 

In the ascent of the Upper Bear River, as far as the 
first camp, the bear signs were to be seen upon every 
sandy marge of the river. Some were old, but many 
were so fresh, and particularly those of one big grizzly, 
that we were keyed up to the highest point of expec- 
tation. 

In rounding one sharp turn in the stream we came 
suddenly upon a flock of thirty wild geese feeding on 
some tall green grass. Although we had a .22 rifle 
and two 45-90's, we did not shoot, as we were in 
search of bear and not of geese, and the shooting 
would undoubtedly alarm the bears if within hearing. 
One old gander among the geese gave the note of 
alarm, and, with much honking, they were soon away 
up in the air and off for pastures new. 

We spent a night at the first camp and heard noth- 
ing and saw nothing of game of any kind. In sight of 
the door, and seemingly but a short distance away, 
were too great snow-capped mountains. We were told 
that although " so near they were yet so far," as, be- 
fore the summit could be reached, twelve miles would 
have to be covered. 



WATCHING FOR BRUIN 219 

Weather, time and other circumstances permitting, 
our scientist, W. E. Hughes, purposed, to climb the 
nearest one in search of mountain goats and bears. 
We left our boat a mile and a half above our first camp 
on the Upper Bear River, and next day made a " hike " 
through a trail unique in the quality that, of all sorts 
of bad ground to travel over, this trail offered three 
distinctly bad types. 

The first was through the so-called brush, which, out 
here, means the everlasting willow bushes. They are 
not so high as the alders, but are thicker and harder to 
get through, slapping the water or dew upon your neck, 
face and body with every step you make. 

Next came five miles of open bog-land — called here 
a "park," where the foot goes down generally into 
water over your ankles, and at times over your knees. 
This is interspersed with hummocks, where you have 
to jump from one to another of them, and if you miss 
your footing, you're up almost to your middle in oozy 
mud. 

After this delectable stretch comes a couple of miles 
of burnt land, on which the logs, lying in every direc- 
tion, impede your progress, while, if the morning be 
wet and your footwear slippery, then you'll find the 
logs also slippery, the bushes, snags and roots tantaliz- 
ing, and you'll surely slide and fall many times before 
you're over the burnt land. 

We took four and a half hours to cover the eight 



220 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

miles, and when we came to the little 8x8 cabin we 
were really very glad. Although we had had numer- 
ous falls by the way, we were still unhurt. This cabin 
had not been visited by any human being so far as we 
knew since the previous spring. 

It is the farthest cabin on the Bear Eiver used by 
Kibbee in his trapping. A sheet-iron stove and a bunk 
is all the cabin contains, although outside we saw a 
good collection of traps stored up ready for this com- 
ing season's work. 

The object of this particular trip was to hunt the 
grizzly, if we could find any of these animals willing 
to be hunted, or even to be seen. We were tired look- 
ing at tracks on the sandy marges of the river, and we 
hungered for a sight of the real tirsus horribilus — this 
being the scientific name of our much respected old 
friend, the grizzly. 

A quarter of a mile before the cabin came into sight, 
we crossed several bear trails, worn down deep by the 
big fellow who had been carrying salmon back from 
the river to cache them ; but every few yards we would 
see where he had sat down and eaten a salmon, leav- 
ing only the bony head and the tail to show the diet he 
was living upon. The bank of the river at and near 
the cabin is fifteen feet high and almost precipitous. 

Well-worn trails lead from the river to the crest of 
the bank, and were made by the bear scooping out steps 
to climb up by. The top of the bank was actually 



WATCHING FOR BRUIN 221 

covered with salmon heads, fins and tails, where the 
big eater had sat down to devour his catch. The 
stench from these decaying portions of the fated 
salmon was very bad ; and the myriads of bluebottle 
flies, mosquitoes, black flies, midgets and bulldog flies 
drawn to the locality by this salmon feast were some- 
thing truly appalling. 

The guide said the bear signs were good, and his 
plan of attack upon the wary beast was to post a man 
at each end of the crescent, which is here made by the 
river ; the third man was to take his position in the 
centre. 

The half circle thus covered with three rifles would 
be in length perhaps five hundred yards, and no one of 
the party would be in danger of the bullets from either 
of his fellows by reason of the conformation of the 
ground. We did not make a fire by which to prepare 
supper, as the smoke would be scented far and near by 
our expected and much-hoped-for prey. 

A cold lunch was hastily eaten, and each man went 
to his appointed post. W. E., on account of his cold, 
was stationed near the cabin at the head of the cres- 
cent. Kibbee selected a stump in the middle of the 
river at the foot of the crescent, and the writer was 
posted in the middle of the half circle, where he could 
" catch them coming or going." To do this he should 
have been equipped, like Janus, with an eye in the 
back of his head as well as one in front. 



222 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

We were to sit the night out and not to stir until 
the morning sun had dispelled the mists and clouds 
that hung around the tops of the snow-clad mountains. 

According to the plan, the writer reached his watch- 
tower at 4 : 10 p. m., and the situation was something 
like this : The stream above could be covered with 
the eyes for one hundred yards ; below, for not more 
than forty yards. On the other side of the river was a 
sandy beach, with a background of willow brush. 

The place selected as offering the best chance for a 
shot was on top of the bank, which here was twenty 
feet high. The bear, if he came, would have to come in 
sight from the front, which was the upper end of the 
curve ; or from the left, through the screen of willows 
across the river; or from the right, which, of course, 
was the mainland. 

In the river below, the salmon were thrashing the 
water as violently as ever, and this interminable fight 
was kept up all night long, making it extremely diffi- 
cult to hear any other sounds but those made by them. 
None of us had any blankets with him, or overcoats. 
"We had been sweating freely from the difficulties of 
the eight-mile flounderings, and we hardly realized what 
a change in the temperature the night would produce. 

The writer put on a woolen bathing suit and a 
sweater- vest. He also had a piece of sail-cloth to use 
as a cover, if perchance it should rain. 

Kibbee mounted his resting place on the stump with- 




to 



& 



m 



M 



WATCHING FOR BRUIN 223 

out any extra clothing whatever, and suffered very 
much in consequence. 

About five o'clock in the evening several strong 
currents of hot air passed down the valley of the river, 
but they were followed by currents of very cold air 
from the snow-capped mountains. 

At six o'clock a slight rain-storm varied the monotony 
of the vigil. A fish-hawk alighted upon a tree to our 
right, and his shrill cries kept up until darkness en- 
shrouded us all. A bald eagle slowly flew from a tall 
dead fir across the river, and alighted on the top of a 
big spruce, where he must have passed the night, as 
we saw him fly from the same tree the next morning. 

The night was cloudy, and at times completely shut 
out all of the stars which up here are most wonderfully 
bright and appear much larger than in the East. 
Venus gave out very nearly as much light as the 
moon, which, when she finally made her appearance 
through the fleeting shadowy clouds, was but at half 
her full size. 

Before entering the brush at the side of our tryst, 
the guide had pointed out to us marks upon a tree 
made by a monster grizzly, who, standing upon his 
hind feet, had with his claws scratched his sign manual 
on the bark. The marks were so high above our heads 
that they gave us a better idea of the stature to which 
these big brutes attain than anything else could have 
done. 



224 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

The winged insect pests were something terrible. 
Never — no, never had we been so persecuted by insects 
as we were upon this night. We all had knowledge of 
what the mosquito, the midget and the black fly can 
do, when they are at their best; but W. E. Hughes 
and the writer, here for the first time, met the " bull- 
dog "fly of the northwest, and our word for it, he's 
most rightly named. 

He makes no fuss, gives no warning like the 
mosquito kindly gives you as she buzzes around you 
in the quiet stillness of the night, nor does he come 
with a rush like the bluebottle fly, which on this night 
made a noise like a babel of voices ; but stealthily he 
alights on the back of your neck, or the upper part of 
your wrist, or in your beard, and you feel him not on 
his landing. He waits quietly until he gets his famous 
" underhold," and then — then — you feel him, and try 
to " shoo " him away, but like his namesake of the dog 
tribe, he won't be shooed. So you slap him or brush 
him away, but he gives up his very life with his bite, 
for he will not, and does not, let go until he's killed. 

He is something akin to the plant, which for the 
first time we saw here, that goes by the charming 
name of the " devil's club." It grows to the height of 
a man's head, is rounded off like a palm leaf at the top, 
sways to the passing wind, and loves the society of its 
fellows, for there's always many of them growing 
together. 



WATCHING FOR BRUIN 225 

They seem to delight in dark, dense woods where 
the ground is covered with deep moss and the side hills 
littered with rotting and storm-struck timber. As you 
brush the " devil's club " aside you realize that he is 
" armed to the teeth " with thorns upon thorns. You 
may have your eye scratched out, your ear torn or 
your nose lacerated. If you are a church-member in 
good standing, you certainly will not swear aloud, 
but you will breathe and think " cuss " words with 
every step you make among them. 

The persecution of the insects became so unbearable 
at last that at ten o'clock we pulled the friendly piece 
of sail-cloth over our head. As it was not large 
enough to cover head, shoulders and body, together 
with the hands, one of which must surely rest upon the 
trusty rifle, we fought the pests from our hands and 
wrists by fanning the air at all times. And this, per- 
haps, may account for the only incident that happened 
during the night to relieve the long-continued strain of 
watching and of listening. 

At half-past ten we heard a couple of branches 
break directly upon our right in the woods, where the 
big fellow had stood up, and, brave fellow as he was, 
had made his mark away up on that old spruce tree. 

What could have made the branches break so 
stealthily, so silently, with no other following sounds 
to give us a chance to interpret the cause thereof ? 
Naturally, this made us sit up and think. And our 



226 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

conclusions were that there could be no other cause 
than the silent coming of a bear. Therefore we 
listened more intently than ever before in our " most 
eventful history," because, if it were an " ursus 
horribilus " on one side, here was the swift-running 
river on the other, and what might not happen if his 
" horribleness " only gently pushed us over the bank 
into the cauldron of fighting salmon below ? 

The minutes sped on and nothing happened until, 
say, eleven o'clock had arrived, and then came five 
ponderous blows on the ground, struck by some 
animal of enormous strength, apparently directly in 
the spot where the branches had been broken a half 
hour before. Now if ever a rifle was grasped quickly 
and a piece of sail-cloth thrown off rudely, both of 
these feats were performed by us in a jiffy. 

With hammer pulled back ready for business, and 
with bated breath, we waited for a solution of the 
mysterious knocks. However, the waiting was in 
vain, for none came. 

In the following long hours before daylight, we had 
ample time to ponder over them, and we, of course, 
imagined many " vain things " ; among others was 
this : If his majesty — because none other than he could 
have given such an exhibition of power and strength — 
had forgotten his usual caution and had made an attack 
from the rear, how could the rifle have been aimed 
with any certainty in the dim and fitful light of the 



WATCHING FOR BRUIN 227 

half moon, which at least once in every five minutes 
was obscured by passing clouds ? At best it would 
have been sort of a gamble, with perhaps a fatal shot, 
and perhaps only a broken leg, as at such close quarters 
he must surely have received one or more bullets into 
him before the fight was over one way or the other. 

The longest night will surely pass if we but wait 
long enough, and our night was slowly passing. 

After midnight the weather turned very cold indeed, 
and the discarded sail-cloth was again put in requisi- 
tion. "When the first faint glow appeared in the east- 
ern sky, a tiny, piping note came from a little water 
ousel in the willow brush across the river. 

The fish-hawk and the bald eagle both were early 
risers, and away they started in search of their break- 
fasts. Some crows, who had roosted in a bunch of 
Douglas firs, flew slowly down from their wooded 
heights to the banks of the river to feed on the car- 
casses of the dead salmon, which lined both banks of 
the running stream. 

Then we heard a bright, cheerful greeting of " good- 
morning " from our scientist, who had shown the best 
judgment of the three, because he had hunted out the 
warm shelter of the cabin at 9 : 30 the night before 
and had slept the sleep of the just until five o'clock in 
the morning. He was accordingly rested and happy. 
Kibbee was heard from a short time afterward, and his 
story was soon told. 



228 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

He had sat on the stump in the middle of the river 
until nearly midnight, until the cold drove him from 
his perch into the willow brush, and the penalty he 
paid for not being more warmly clad was a bad cold, 
which afflicted him for many a day afterward. 

He had seen nothing, heard nothing and smelled 
nothing but the decaying bodies of the dead salmon. 
He soon gave me a solution of the mysterious sounds I 
had heard. The noise of the breaking branches was 
indeed made by the grizzly. He had then got our scent 
and perhaps more than once had raised himself to his 
hind feet and had looked us over and over again, and 
then to satisfy his curiosity he had struck the blows 
with one of his powerful feet to attract our attention 
and to see if there was life in the object that he had 
scented and stalked to his cover. 

As the blows had had the desired effect of stirring 
the — to him — strange and dreaded animal which we 
call man into life and action, he had seen enough, and 
as silently as he came he loped away to his lair to laugh 
in his own clumsy fashion at how he had outwitted one 
of the tribe of his most dreaded foes. 



CHAPTEE XXI 
THE LONE BULL OF SANDY LAKE 

It's a remarkable cluster of lakes that encircles a 
group of mountains in the region of the Bear River — 
most of them snow-clad — with short stretches of run- 
ning water pouring down between the rugged eleva- 
tions, and thus connecting the lakes in a formation re- 
sembling the shape of an egg. 

Bear Lake forms the small end, while Isaac's Lake, 
forty miles long, bounds the territory on the north, with 
Swan Lake, Little Lake, Three-Mile Lake, Spectacle 
Lake, Sandy Lake and Long Lake and one or two more 
completing the semicircle. The distance from Bear 
Lake to the outlet of Indian Point Lake, into the lower 
Bear River, is, roughly speaking, one hundred and fifty 
miles. 

Our guide, Kibbee, controls the trapping rights, by 
purchase mostly, of this big patch of mountains, lake 
waters and running streams, with the exception of 
Isaac's Lake, where an old Scotchman by the name of 
Kenneth McCloud claims possession. HcCloud is now 
eighty-four years old, and is the only human being on 
Isaac's Lake. 

He has become feeble and does not bring out the 



230 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

amount of fur that he formerly did. He does not seem 
to relish company very much, unless the visitor brings 
him a " bottle " ; and in that case, he's given a hearty 
reception. He has not been seen by any one since last 
June, when he visited Barkerville. 

Kibbee built a cabin on the upper end of Isaac's Lake 
some years since, and also a boat. The next time he 
visited the lake the canny Scot called at the cabin to 
tell him that his boat had been smashed by a big storm 
during his absence ; but Kibbee found more signs of 
destruction by human hands than those made by a 
storm. The incident was a forcible suggestion that in- 
truders were not wanted on that particular sheet of 
water. 

It is just possible that on some future visit to the lake 
the old Scotchman's bones may be found whitening in 
his cabin. He has been living the life of a recluse up 
there for forty-three years, coming to the outskirts of 
civilization once, and sometimes twice, in a year to dis- 
pose of his furs and get his " bottle " and supplies, and 
then to return to his wilderness home. 

We had planned to make a portage of four miles from 
a small lake, called McCleary's Lake, over to Isaac's 
Lake, striking the latter lake fifteen miles from its head. 
We would then build a raft, and, after visiting Mc- 
Cloud, paddle and pole to the end of Isaac's Lake, 
where we would take a trail of sixteen miles for Indian 
Point Lake, and this would bring us within seven miles 



THE LONE BULL OF SANDY LAKE 231 

of Bear Lake, at our main camp, but a rain that seemed 
never ending, and which lasted for over three weeks, 
upset all of our plans, and we had to give up the 
project. 

The next plan was a trip to a spot called " The Iron 
Slough," pronounced " slew," where caribou and moose 
were said to be very plentiful. Up to this time it had 
been found impracticable to hunt bear from the fact 
that the brush which everywhere lines the river had 
not been thinned out by frost. This formed an impen- 
etrable screen, behind which the bears could come and 
go at will, so that the human eye could not obtain a 
glimpse of them. 

The only possible chance was to come upon one una- 
wares, while he might be crossing the river, or walking 
along the edge of some sandy beach, at a sharp turn of 
the stream. We were out at daylight and stayed until 
dark, day after day, and five times we stayed out all 
night, but not a solitary bear had we seen, although 
tracks were provokingly plentiful wherever a sandy 
point appeared. 

So now the caribou was to be our quarry. We, 
therefore, left Bear River and paddled over to Swan 
Lake, where we spent the afternoon and night. Dr. 
W. E. Hughes and the writer made a circuit of the lake 
and saw many mallard ducks and some wild geese. We 
heard coyotes yelping in the woods, and afterward saw 
two of them away off on the shore. One stood watch- 



232 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

ing us intently, and when I stooped to pick up my rifle 
it was off to the woods like a flash. 

On the following morning we crossed Swan Lake 
against a strong head wind, and then we came to Spec- 
tacle Lake, so called because there are two oval sheets 
of water joined by a jutting piece of land, which looks 
like the bridge of a pair of spectacles. Here we fought 
the head wind until we could go no further, as we were 
in danger of swamping. We pulled for the shore, built 
a fire, cooked a bit of moose steak, and this, with some 
boiled rice, made for us a sufficient lunch. 

The wind subsided somewhat, and for a while we had 
easier going, but on nearing the end of the lake it blew 
up fresh again, and the boat made but little headway 
in spite of our earnest work with the paddles. 

So it was a dubious problem whether we could get 
across or not, when we saw a boat coming toward us 
with one man paddling. He turned in behind a point 
of land, and in a few minutes came out again. 

As this action looked somewhat strange, we won- 
dered what it meant, and as the canoe came nearer to 
us we saw that a white cloth or sheet covered some- 
thing in the centre of the boat. Kibbee, when he saw 
this, gave out one of his rough and ready ejaculations : 

" My God," he said, " it's ' Al,' and he's bringing out 
a gutshot man." Then we thought of our fellow 
hunters who were occupying the cabin at the far end 
of the lake, and imagined many things that might have 



THE LONE BULL OF SANDY LAKE 233 

happened. When the canoes met, the problem was 
easily solved, as the sheet was a piece of sail-cloth which 
covered some fresh moose meat that " Al " was bring- 
ing out to us. 

Here " Al " took Dr. Hughes into his canoe and 
turned back with us. Our boat, relieved of the weight 
of the scientist, enabled us finally to make the shore. 
We found that Dr. W. R. Roe had actually seen a bear, 
and the bear had really seen him, and, to be absolutely 
sure about the matter, he — the bear — had risen on his 
hind legs and looked at the doctor out of the corner 
of his eye, then he — the bear — dropped to all fours and 
loped away. Dr. Roe didn't shoot for two reasons- 
first, because he thought the bear would come nearer, 
which he didn't, and, next, because he thought he was 
too far away to make an effective shot. 

The two doctors had been interested with the com- 
pany of a mining prospector who had a claim on a creek 
six miles away, which he was trying to develop into a 
full-fledged gold mine. As this man, some years back, 
had discovered one of the best-paying mines in the 
Barkerville territory, his experience and knowledge 
were entitled, to much respect. 

The following morning we left the other half of the 
party to wrestle with the problem of. getting a shot at 
that most particular bear. We crossed Little Lake, about 
one-half of which is taken up by a great beaver meadow, 
and through this meadow a channel not over eight feet 



234 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

wide twists and turns until the opposite shore is 
reached. Then follows a portage of one hundred and 
twenty-five yards, and when we had carried over this 
distance and dragged the boat over the skids, we en- 
tered Three-Mile Lake, which was crossed against an- 
other hard head wind. 

At the end of this lake was a portage of thirty feet, 
which brought us to a winding brook. Launched on 
this stream, we speedily found that it was the home of 
many beavers. These industrious animals had no fewer 
than five new dams across the stream in the length of 
a mile, and there were, in addition, several old and 
abandoned dams into the bargain. 

In going over these dams it was necessary to tear 
their tops off before we could get the boat through. 
While this was tedious work, yet it was nothing to 
what we had to do on our return to surmount these 
selfsame dams, which in the meantime the beavers had 
repaired, because then it was all up-hill. 

From this beaver brook we ran into Swamp Eiver, 
and here, for the first time on this trip, we came in 
touch with a glacial river, for the water is of a grayish, 
clay-like color and is really the drainage from ice- 
capped mountains. 

Two miles below, the river falls over a cataract sixty 
feet high and we could hear its roaring distinctly, but 
we hadn't the time to spare to paddle down to see it 
and then force our way back again against the swift 



THE LONE BULL OF SANDY LAKE 235 

current, so we went ashore and cooked and ate lunch. 
Near where we sat Kibbee pointed out a standing tree 
that was chopped off at the top, and his explanation of 
this unusual feature was like this : 

" You see, me and the woman was a-comin' down 
from Sandy Lake cabin with a load of fur, when we 
seed a lynx up in the top of that thar tree ; we 
couldn't make it out what he was a-doin' up there, and 
he looked so still-like to me that I didn't shoot at him. 
So I goes over to the tree, and, sure as guns, he was up 
thar dead ; he had got caught in one of my traps and 
had drug the trap up the tree, and got so tangled up 
with the chain that he died and was left hanging thar. 
So I climbs the tree, cuts off the top and down he 
comes, and his hide fetched me $22, because lynx fur 
is high now on account of them autemobil fellows who 
need so much fur." 

A four-mile paddle up-stream brought us to Sandy 
Lake. On the right-hand side as we passed in we made 
out a small moose, apparently a yearling, walking on the 
beach, but we wanted nothing to do with him, he was 
too little. Four and a half miles more and we came to 
where the Swamp River flows into Sandy Lake from 
Long Lake. It was now getting dark, as the sun al- 
ready had sunk behind a big mountain, the topmost 
snow-clad peak of which towered some thousands of 
feet above the timber line. 

Kibbee, with his sharp eyes, discerned an object up 



236 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

the cove toward Long Lake that looked like a big bull 
moose. Our scientist focused his field-glasses upon it, 
but on account of the oscillation of the boat, which pre- 
vented him from seeing plainly, he pronounced it a log. 

It appeared to me to be a bull caribou, and at last, 
when it moved, we all came to the same conclusion — 
that it was indeed a caribou bull. But what a big fel- 
low he was ! None of us had before seen anything 
alive like him in size. 

He was close to a mile from us, standing on the shore 
of a cove, feeding at a " lick " that served to whet the 
appetite at times of both moose and caribou. 

The shape of the letter " V " will give an idea of our 
position. The bull was at the left point of the " V," 
and we were at the base of it. A bit of jutting land 
ahead of us was the right point. 

We paddled as fast as we could to the point of land 
in front of us, which shut us out entirely from the view 
of our quarry. Here I asked Dr. Hughes to take his 
rifle, and make a " try " for him, but he insisted that 
the honor of stalking and perhaps shooting the first big 
game should belong to the writer. 

As no time could be wasted in argument, Kibbee and 
I started off as fast as our legs could carry us, right up 
the side of a hill clothed with deep, soft moss and en- 
cumbered by a great deal of fallen timber. 

The light was fading, and our footing was anything 
but sure, as we plunged over logs and dodged under 




CO 



THE LONE BULL OF SANDY LAKE 237 

dead branches. We both had " bellows to mend " be- 
fore the journey was half over. Three times we left 
the ridge, and went down near to the water. 

The first view we had of the bull through the trees 
showed us that he was even a larger, finer specimen 
than we had realized when seen from the boat. The 
second time we neared the water's edge, he was just 
entering the dense woods, and only his rump was vis- 
ible. The third time he was out of sight altogether. 

We still "plugged" on, panting and blowing like 
horses pulling a heavy load up-hill. Soon we came in 
sight of a little cove with a large log lying at the back 
of it, and this seemed a good cover behind which to 
hide. 

When we got to the log our feelings may be im- 
agined upon seeing that the bull had again come out of 
the woods, and was placidly looking in our direction. 
I waited just a minute or two to get quieted down, as 
my heart was pumping like a trip-hammer. Kibbee 
said the distance was two hundred yards, although an 
examination next day showed it to be over three hun- 
dred, but the fading light was so deceptive that I 
thought I had better shoot for the top of his back. 

Taking as steady aim as I could for the upper part 
of the shoulder, the bullet sped on its way. But it was 
a clean miss. As it did not strike the water, I thought 
perhaps it had gone under him, so I elevated a little 
more and fired ; but still no hit. 



238 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

The bull could not make out where the sound came 
from, and turned completely around and walked back 
into the entrance of his trail, leaving only his hips ex- 
posed. Kibbee whispered, "Wait; he'll come out 
again." And that he did very soon. 

He now stepped rather confidently along for a few 
yards ; then stopped to listen. I fired in rapid succes- 
sion four more shots without a hit, the bull turning 
twice while this wild firing was going on. 

I started shooting with four cartridges in the maga- 
zine of the rifle and one in the chamber ; and these 
having been expended, I took one out of my vest 
pocket. 

When this was fired I was horrified to find that my 
cartridges were apparently all gone, and yet the big * 
fellow was still standing there, wondering, no doubt, 
where all the thunder and lightning were coming from. 
By now it was dusk. A hurried search in the hip 
pocket of my trousers brought forth the seventh and 
last cartridge ; and once more taking aim in the gath- 
ering darkness, the bullet hit him fairly and squarely, 
and down and over he rolled. 

Then we heard a shout of exultation from Dr. 
Hughes, who had crept up by way of the shore and 
was now close behind us. He had seen every shot as 
it was fired and it was his judgment that I had been 
firing too high altogether, and that the shooting made 
him think of the battle of San Juan. 



THE LONE BULL OF SANDY LAKE 239 

When we gathered around the fallen prize each of 
us said he would likely never again see his equal in 
size, shape and bulk. We opened and dressed him as 
quickly as possible ; and following the shore back to 
the boat again, we reached the Sandy Lake cabin at a 
quarter past eight. Fire was made without delay, a 
pot of soup boiled and eaten, and with much talk over 
the recent excitement we lay down to rest. 

I say to rest — for my mind was so full, with its re- 
hearsal of the run up the ridge and through the woods ; 
of the fall head over heels from a log down an incline 
and into some brush at the bottom of a deep depres- 
sion ; of a stumble from striking a root with the 
right foot and going face and head into the spongy 
mass ; of the rapid shooting and of the search for the 
very last cartridge, and, finally, of the result of the 
successful shot, that " sleep, blessed sleep " was not for 
me until the early morning hours had long been passed. 

The following morning we went over and skinned 
the bull and took some measurements. His antlers 
had a spread of thirty-eight inches ; the longest prong 
measured forty inches from tip to head, inside measure- 
ment, and forty-two inches outside. 

After the hide was removed his bare neck measured 
forty-six inches ; and some idea may be obtained of his 
bulk when it is known that the fat which lay upon his 
back and sides measured by the tape line two and a half 
inches in thickness. 



240 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

We saved some of the meat and all of the fat to 
take with us on our journey to the Iron Slough. "We 
buried the feet and more of the meat in the cold glacial 
water, placing some stones over them to keep them 
from the coyotes during our absence. 

We hung the hide over a willow bush to dry, 
skinned the head and took it out into the water and 
fastened it to a log, so that the porcupines could not 
touch it, while the balance of the carcass we left, 
together with some of the meat, for the other half of 
the party, who were to follow within a day or two. 

Thus was the old adage that " the unexpected 
always happens " once more exemplified. 

For eleven days we had been looking in all the 
likely places to find big game. We had been up and 
out at likely hours in the morning and at likely hours 
at night. We had covered in this period of time over 
sixty-eight miles of boating and had seen not a single 
living head of game of any kind, excepting a small 
deer which we shot, and that was unexpectedly seen 
at the base of a mountain, where one would least look 
for it, and yet here, away from his tribe and kindred 
— all alone — this big lone bull of Sandy Lake was 
discovered within a very few minutes of dusk, stalked 
and killed. No wonder we were exultant and excited 
beyond measure at the final unlooked-for result. 



CHAPTEE XXII 
THE "SWITZERLAND OF AMERICA" 

On the morning succeeding the killing of the lone 
bull of Sandy Lake, we left for the Iron Slough. 
Our route led up Swamp River to the mouth of Long 
Lake and up that notable sheet of water until we 
emerged once more into Swamp River, twelve miles 
above. It seemed that we were destined to have 
nothing but head winds, as when we entered Long 
Lake it was blowing directly in our teeth. 

This lake is nothing more than a widening and 
deepening of Swamp River, flanked on both sides by 
mountains of the first magnitude — not one, or two, or 
three, but crowded in as thick and as close as the 
twelve miles will permit. They seem to be of every 
form, all of them covered with snow at the peaks and 
at least three, perhaps four, carrying the weight of 
great glaciers. 

We camped opposite one which was the exact 
prototype in shape of Cheops, the famous pyramid in 
Egypt. The sides and faces of each and every one 
were scarred and seamed with the traces of snow 
avalanches, which had cleared the ground in their 
paths of rocks and trees as clean as if swept with a 
giant steel broom. 



242 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

The following season after the avalanche had fallen, 
fresh vegetation would spring up, making a green streak 
of growing brush, trees and herbage, all very pleasing to 
the eye. These streaks reached from the base of the 
mountains to the top of the timber line. Fire has 
ravaged most of these grand sentinels of northern 
British Columbia of their thick growth of trees, but this 
brings its own reward, for nature with her lavish 
generosity soon clothes the burnt-over ground with a 
lusty growth of green herbage which gives rich suste- 
nance to mountain goats, caribou, moose and deer and to 
such smaller animals as the whistling marmot and the 
rabbit ; and among the birds, the ptarmigan, the blue 
grouse, the " fool " hen and the willow grouse. 

Where such game abounds, there, of course, will lurk 
the fierce animals that prey upon it. Up near the 
timber line the grizzly and black bears find food suit- 
able for their wants. The fur-bearing marten finds in 
the many squirrels plenty of food for his appetite. 
The lynx likes the taste of the rabbit, as does the eagle, 
the owl, the wolverine, the coyote, the weasel and the 
timber wolf. 

Poor bunny has a hard road cut out for him. He 
has more blood-thirsty enemies than any other animal 
under the blue canopy of the skies. It may be that he 
was originally designed to furnish food for so many 
different species, and for this reason he was made the 
most fecund of all animals, the female giving birth to 



« SWITZERLAND OF AMERICA » 243 

five litters of four young rabbits each during the five 
spring and summer months, and, if they were left alone, 
as they were once in Australia for four years, they 
would become an unmitigated nuisance. 

In this far northern part of the world, nature in her 
wisdom has provided an additional safeguard by mak- 
ing the rabbits susceptible to some contagious disease 
that carries them off every four years, and this year is 
the fatal year for them, and hence there are no rabbits 
to be seen anywhere. For this reason the lynx has 
hunted pastures new, for without the rabbit he has 
such hard picking that he needs must emigrate. 

I have read much of the glories of Switzerland, of its 
mountains and its valleys, and have seen many pictures 
of the same, but I cannot believe that they surpass or 
even equal the grandeur and beauty of the mountains 
and valleys of this comparatively unknown country. 
There have been undoubtedly many timber speculators 
there looking the timber over, but the first stick of 
wood has yet to be cut by a lumberman to be shipped to 
the outer world. Whatever timber has been cut there 
would not amount to more than 10,000 feet in a year, 
and that would be for Kibbee's or McCloud's use as fire- 
wood, or for the making of one or two boats. 

Gold prospectors, too, have been there, and yet not 
one dollar's worth of gold has seen the outer world. It 
is really virgin soil, clothed with virgin timber and, 
leaving out a half acre patch of tilled ground beside 



244 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

Kibbee's Bear Lake camp, it is a virgin agricultural 
land. So to all intents and purposes, this region is un- 
known even to the people of British Columbia them- 
selves. 

In fighting our way up Long Lake against the head 
wind, some curious vagaries of wind, rain, hail, thunder 
and lightning made the passage not only startling, but 
for a time positively dangerous. Once a strong warm 
current of air struck us on the left side of the face, fol- 
lowed within a minute by a blast of cold air on the op- 
posite side. This condition continued for a half hour 
while the various forces were assembling for a final 
contest as to which should win. 

Then a flash of lightning and a loud clap of thunder 
aroused us to the fact that the titanic battle was on and 
to some apprehension as to the safety of our heavily- 
laden boat. Following the electric exhibition came 
three distinct whirlwinds. 

The first struck us from the left, and, despite our 
paddles, it swept us nearly across to the right-hand side 
of the lake, and we were in the middle of the lake 
when it commenced. The second brought us directly 
back again even more suddenly than we had crossed at 
first, and this time we came dangerously near capsizing. 

The third whirlwind caught us astern and carried us 
up the lake whether we liked it or not. The waves 
came in long spasmodic rollers crested with foam, but 
as long as we shipped no water we were content. This 



"SWITZERLAND OF AMERICA" 245 

continued until nine of the twelve miles had been 
covered, and then came the rain in a deluge. 

Our guide had no camp, but he had long ago found a 
spruce tree which was set at such an angle that we would 
be perfectly dry under its sheltering branches. With 
some little difficulty we made a safe landing, carried 
our dunnage and supplies to the lucky spot, pulled the 
boat up on the rocks out of danger of wind and water, 
and then gave hearty mental thanks for our safety. 
The storm varied in intensity through the night, but 
quieted down enough by morning to permit us to pass 
onward to our destination. 

When we pushed off from the sheltering arm of the 
spruce boughs, we saw ahead of us what appeared to be 
a gap only the width of a creek where the feet of two 
mountains came down from opposite sides and almost 
closed the channel ; but when the boat entered the pass 
it was found to be nearly a mile wide. The height of 
the mountains on each side had played with our sense 
of distance. 

Once more the Swamp River was entered. There 
were two channels, and the water in both looked 
fiercely swift ; the left channel was chosen. It was 
filled with sand-bars and had a few deep pools and 
some rather bad rapids. These were passed by one man 
walking on the bank pulling with the rope, another 
holding the boat out with the canoe pole, and the 
writer using the stern paddle. 



246 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

We then came back into the main stream, and soon 
it was bull strength with paddle and pole for a mile 
and a half. Then we beheld the entrance to the much- 
talked-of Iron Slough. This stream, if such it can be 
called, enters the river on the right, as you go up, and 
passes through a great stretch of marsh-land, turning 
and twisting its way through the ever-present alders 
and willows for a distance of seven miles, and all of 
this way running parallel to the Swamp Kiver, which 
flows to the left. 

At the head of this slough, or stream, as I prefer to 
call it, nestles a tiny lake — right against the breast of 
a mountain, down whose sides flow two icy creeks 
which feed it, and in turn this lake feeds the stream. 

At places on the way up, Kibbee went on to the 
wide-stretching marsh, and climbed some high tree 
from whose branches he could scan the sea of waving 
swale grass, hazel bushes, high-bush cranberries, stunted 
spruce trees, blueberry bushes, mossy bog-land and 
hummocks, treacherous underfoot and hard to balance 
one's self upon. As a fitting border to the picture, we 
could see the Swamp River in the distance, with a 
rampart of towering mountains guarding it. 

Trails of caribou and moose we all could see, and 
fresh tracks of both animals, too ; but not a single 
piece of game could the guide or we detect. We took 
a frugal lunch at the head of the stream where it could 
be stepped over, and then went to the lake. 



" SWITZERLAND OF AMERICA " 247 

Here the writer climbed up the side of a mountain 
for a hundred feet, while the guide from the same 
elevation climbed an old hemlock tree. He sat up 
there, and I stood on a rock, gazing out upon that vast 
marsh, expecting certainly to see at least a band of 
caribou or a pair of moose, but not a single mammal 
enlivened the scene. 

Of bird life, we noted a marsh hawk and a sparrow 
hawk searching for their evening meal, and a pair of 
kingfishers circling overhead; but this was all. Our 
expected game were undoubtedly up the sides of the 
mountains, but the brush — the everlasting brush — kept 
us from getting near them. 

There are certain rules of ethics carefully observed 
among trappers and others up here. When Kibbee 
first put in an appearance with his traps en this 
favored ground, a man by the name of Moxey claimed 
possession, and it was buy out or " git out." Kibbee 
bought out, getting, in addition to the right, all of 
Moxey's stock of traps. 

Then another man appeared who knew not the land, 
but who claimed rights upon it. He built a cabin, but 
before it was finished Kibbee " went to see " him. 
There were but few words spoken between them ; the 
man sold out and left. Now none is there to dispute 
Kibbee's title to the trapping lines. 

This great marsh is the natural home of the beaver. 
We went over no fewer than nineteen of their dams, 



248 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

which were in fair condition, besides a hundred or 
more that years ago were abandoned and allowed to 
go to ruin. These animals have tunneled the ground, 
built houses, dammed streams, and changed water- 
courses wherever and whenever their fancy pleased. 
They here have an abundance of food of just the kind 
they most love, and now, as there is a close time upon 
them and no one is permitted to trap them, they are 
increasing in number very fast. 

The marsh also makes a splendid feeding ground for 
the caribou, and their tracks are seen everywhere. We 
were told that the wolverine is the caribou's deadly 
enemy, and Kibbee has never yet trapped one without 
finding caribou hair in its stomach. 

It takes two wolverines to bring one of the big 
animals down ; — one worries him in front and the 
other in his rear. They keep at him until he loses his 
head, and runs about in a circle across which the 
gluttonous wolverines will cut short corners and nab 
him behind, finally hamstringing him, and thus bringing 
him to the ground. Then his finish is speedy and sure. 

The deer up here have a hard time of it with the 
coyotes. In the spring time, when the deer are feeble 
and lean, and the winter's crust of snow becomes 
weakened by the presaging spring weather, the coyote 
will startle them into making a few running jumps. 
The crust gives way, the deer are stalled, and the 
coyote gets his belly full of meat. 



" SWITZERLAND OF AMERICA " 249 

We stayed at the head waters of the stream until 
the afternoon and, as rain was again threatening, we 
took our departure for the same nesting place which 
we had used the night before. Our hunt for moose 
and caribou came to nothing. 

However, Ave did not regret the lost time or the 
labor expended in reaching this remarkable piece of 
territory. The lure of the big game had taken us to a 
wonderfully grand section of country, which was 
totally new. Sooner or later it will attract tourists 
from near and far by its beauty and rugged grandeur. 

We have seen mountains that as yet have never been 
limned by the artist's brush or portrayed through the 
medium of the stereoptic camera. In fact, I question 
much whether the territory has ever before been written 
about. 

Several men in Barkerville asked if we intended 
writing about the country and if we expected to print 
what was written. We said we surely would if the 
sights we saw warranted it. So this is possibly the 
first screed that has been written upon this vast sweep 
of country, hemmed in by mountains that are not yet 
even named, watered by streams along the shores of 
which even a prospector has not yet trod. 

One man we know has climbed to the top of three 
mountains, but where are the men who have scaled the 
others ? The probability is that their tops have never 
yet been trod by the foot of man. 



250 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

When the new railroad is finished a journey of thirty 
miles therefrom will bring the pioneers and venturesome 
ones right into the heart of this region, where now a 
distance of about three hundred and forty miles must 
be covered by stage, packhorse, and canoe before the 
incomer will be able to sit where this chapter was 
penned. 



CHAPTER XXIII 
ON THE TRAIL OF THE GRIZZLY 

Dr. W. E. Hughes, our scientist, had his heart set 
upon climbing one of the big mountains that over- 
looked our camp. First, his ambition was to get within 
rifle shot of the nimble mountain goat ; next, to try his 
luck with the whistling marmot, or mountain ground- 
hog, of the Selkirk and other western ranges ; and, 
lastly, to study the flora and fauna of these craggy 
peaks. 

Having no such high desire, the writer was assigned 
to the care of a young man born of Scottish parents in 
Cape Breton, Nova Scotia. Neil was his given name. 
He was industrious ; a fairly good cook, a good axe- 
man, and a good boatman. He was not a hunter, nor 
did he pretend to be one. 

His life so far had consisted in working very hard for 
his daily pay ; first at wood-cutting in Maine, then in 
digging and picking potatoes in Aroostook County, that 
state, where he was expected to fill one hundred barrels 
per day ; next he was a section hand on a small railroad 
in the Pine Tree State. 

Then, seven years ago, the Canadian Pacific Railroad 
having advertised the low rate of twenty-five dollars 
from Portland, Me., to Vancouver, B. C, he and a fel- 



252 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

low workman took the trip. Landing at Ashcroft, they 
have labored in this province ever since. 

There was a gold-mining operation away up in the 
north, the road to it being over a trail four hundred 
miles north of Quesnelle on the Frazer River. Some 
parts of machinery were needed to equip a sawmill, so 
as to commence sawing wood in the early spring, and 
this lad, with six others, was hired to haul the much- 
wanted machinery upon hand sleds. 

Each man had to pull a load of 150 pounds outside of 
his own kit and provisions — the total load being close 
to 200 pounds each. The freight weighed a total of 
1,050 pounds. It was found best to start each day's 
work at two o'clock in the morning, for then the crust 
on the snow was hard and glistening, but by that 
same hour in the afternoon the snow was so soft 
as to make it impracticable to travel over it. They, of 
course, traveled on snow-shoes and, as seventeen men 
were on the trail ahead of them bound for the same 
mine, their path was well marked and easily kept. The 
man who contracted to deliver the freight was paid 
$1.60 per pound, or a total of $1,680, and he made some 
good money upon the contract. 

The start was made on the morning of March 13th 
and the trip ended on the same day in the month of 
April. Thirty-one days of walking and dragging a sled 
heavily weighted for four hundred miles was no mean 
achievement in that space of time. 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE GRIZZLY 253 

Neil and his fellow workers on the hand sleds ob- 
tained work on another mining operation at that place, 
working there all summer, and then receiving but $50 
each ; the manager having slipped off to Vancouver and 
left them to mourn the loss of their summer's wages, 
which he still owes to them. 

The prices for commodities in the settlement that 
summer were, roughly speaking, three pounds for one 
dollar. Three pounds of flour, of sugar, of rice, of 
corn-meal, of beans ? or of oatmeal for one dollar, and 
bacon, butter, tea and coffee one dollar per pound. 
This will give a pretty good idea of what it means to 
live up in this far-off country where strength and brawn 
are what count for success. 

Now this rough-and-ready, willing and able worker 
was to be my sole companion for a week. "We left 
Bear Lake camp at eight o'clock of a Monday morning, 
with a hard head wind facing us. It is seven miles 
across the lake, and the wind and the waves were too 
much for us at one point, and we went ashore close to 
the side of a high rugged mountain. 

" While we are waiting for the wind to go down, 
suppose we climb up to the bear trail that winds around 
the mountain," Neil said. " You can walk along that 
for a mile or so, and when you want me, I will be fol- 
lowing close inshore with the boat, and you can easily 
reach me by blowing your whistle." 

I did so, and found the trail without any trouble, but 



254 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

it was a different thing to keep it. Bruin seems to pay 
but little attention to obstacles ; where he can go under 
a dead fall, or over one, there the trail runs. If 
not, it may start right up the mountain, or down to the 
water's edge. For the writer, going under the dead 
falls meant to crawl on hands and knees ; to go over 
them was to climb through a frieze of dead and broken 
branches, as well as over the prostrate trees, and numer- 
ous falls soon admonished me that paddling at the bow 
of the boat was an easier place than following that sort 
of trail. 

A few blasts of the whistle brought the faithful Neil 
to the shore with the boat. If paddling across Bear 
Lake was hard work, it was nothing to the work we 
had in poling up the river, for it was in flood, and with 
the wind behind it, the best that could be done was to 
dodge into the eddies first on one side, and then on the 
other, so that when Swan Lake camp was reached Ave 
found we had used up six hours in going nine miles. 

After lunch there we were off again for another tug 
against wind and current in poling still further up the 
river. We had gone a couple of miles, when the mouth 
of a slough loading to a widely extended marsh was 
reached and, to give us a breathing spell and to see if 
there was any game in sight on the marsh, I directed 
Neil to shove into it. The mouth of the slough was 
somewhat choked up with willow brush and, as the boat 
made an awkward swing into the brush at one side, 




to 



P4 



u 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE GRIZZLY 255 

Neil grabbed one of the treacherous branches to pull 
the boat in by, but instead of pulling us in, the rude 
branch pulled him out head over heels into the icy 
glacial water. lie climbed into the stern of the boat 
and shook himself like a dog, and asked what should be 
done now. I said, " We'll get right back again into the 
stream and pull for all we're worth, so as to keep you 
from getting chilled through." 

On passing up we came to two sandy beaches, one on 
each side of the river, and on both sides there Avere 
fresh tracks of a grizzly bear made but a few hours 
before. We poled up to the next beach above, and 
there we landed. Neil undressed, and with the loan of 
a jumper and a pair of overalls, a shirt and undershirt 
and a pair of trousers from my kit, he succeeded in get- 
ting a complete suit of dry clothes. 

It was now getting dark, and it seemed to me a good 
idea to run down again to the place where the fresh 
bear tracks were. As there was a little cove at the 
upper end of one of the sandy beaches and the wind at 
that point being in our favor, we could run the boat 
into the cove and lie there snug and comfortable for 
the night and watch for bruin at the same time. 

We, therefore, went down, pushed the boat into the 
cove, cut off some willow brush to give us an unob- 
scured view of the beaches, pulled the bow hard and 
fast upon the sand, ate some cold boiled rice which we 
had brought with us in a kettle, and then fixed our- 



256 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

selves for the night. I told Neil to go to sleep, and I 
would waken him at midnight, and then he should go 
on watch. Neil lay down in the stern and cuddled up 
as best he could. He was soon snoring and dead to the 
world, and while my vigil lasted he could be plainty 
heard at times above the noise -of the rushing water. 
This was something I hadn't counted on and I felt sure 
that no bear would come near us while the snoring 
lasted. But how to stop it was a problem which could 
not be solved during that night at least. 

The night passed very slowly, the only sounds heard 
being the calls of a pair of moose lovers away off to 
the back of us and the splashing of an occasional musk- 
rat. I did not waken Neil, but kept watch all of the 
night and morning myself, dozing off at times for a few 
minutes until the welcome glow of sunrise bade us be 
up and doing. 

Then I saw an exhibition of patience and endurance 
on the part of Neil, which had lasted through the most 
of the night, that impressed me more by its silent tes- 
timony than a whole chapter of words could have done. 
The boat had been leaking, and as he lay upon his left 
side and the boat was tilted some degrees, it happened 
that where he lay just one-half of his body was in the 
water, and therefore was wet, while the upper half 
was dry. 

His teeth were chattering when I called him. He 
simply remarked that his sleep had been fitful and dis- 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE GRIZZLY 257 

tnrbed, at times he slept soundly and then again he 
had been kept awake by the slowly accumulating wa- 
ter in the boat. Not wanting to make any noise for 
fear of possibly alarming a prowling grizzly bear, he 
had suffered and endured this condition in silence. 
There's grit for you. 

When we arrived at our cabin he complained of a 
headache and a swelling in his throat, and that night I 
induced him to bathe his feet in hot water for twenty 
minutes and go to bed without his supper. This evi- 
dently was the proper treatment for him, as he was all 
right the next morning, but he asked to be excused 
from any more lying-out watches at night. 

It now commenced to rain, and continued to pour in 
a steady shower, such as only this part of British Co- 
lumbia and some sections of the tropics can revel in. 
There was not the slightest let-up by day or night until 
forty-eight hours had passed. You may ask what was 
to be done during such a downpour of rain? The 
cabin, 12x14, was no place to sit in and none to hunt 
in. If the fire was burning brightly, you had to go 
out-of-doors on account of the heat, and just then it 
was very wet out-of-doors. 

On the opposite side of the river from the cabin was 
a growth of magnificent Douglas firs, perhaps a hun- 
dred of them in all. These trees are tall and stately ; 
straight as an arrow, and gradually tapering off until 
the top of the stem is reached. In a strong wind they 



258 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

swayed from side to side, the tops swinging in a half 
circle, and if the wind should be strong enough, they 
will at times lash and snap like a whip. John Muir, 
in "A Wind-storm in the Sierras," describes these 
noble trees, one of which he climbed during a great 
wind-storm, as follows : 

" Though comparatively young, they were about a 
hundred feet high, and their lithe, brushy tops were 
rocking and swirling in wild ecstasy. Being accus- 
tomed to climb trees in making botanical studies, I ex- 
perienced no difficulty in reaching the top of this one, 
and never before did I enjoy so noble an exhilaration 
of motion. The slender tops fairly flapped and swished 
in the passionate torrent, bending and swirling back- 
ward and forward, round and round, tracing indescrib- 
able combinations of vertical and horizontal curves, 
while I clung with muscles firmly braced, like a bobo- 
link on a reed." 

Interspersed with the Douglas firs were some balsam 
firs, a few very tall black spruces and some second- 
growth pines. In prowling through this growth of tall 
timber, on the forenoon of our arrival, when the sun 
was shining, and when, for a part of one day at least, 
nature was to be seen at her best, I discovered two of 
these Douglas firs growing but a foot apart, one of 
them measuring twenty-eight inches in diameter and 
the other thirty-seven inches, and both of them 
over one hundred feet tall. Directly back of this pair 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE GRIZZLY 259 

of sylvan monarchs were a balsam fir and a spruce. 
The branches of the Douglas firs spread out as 
they neared the ground, so that they formed a can- 
opy, or giant umbrella, with a circumference of thirty 
feet. 

The tips of the lower branches were incased in swing- 
ing trailing moss, which acted like an immense circular 
sponge in absorbing and holding the rain as it fell. 
All around these trees was an accumulation of spills 
and cones, maybe the accretion of a couple of centuries' 
growth, and as dry as punk. I dug down into the 
rather compact mass with my hands, and low down the 
spills had become mostly disintegrated into dust, but 
the cones were yet firm for a foot from the surface. 
" Here," I said, " is a model shelter from all the rain 
and all the storms with which rude winter may ever 
afflict the land." 

In front of this haven of security ran a little brook 
fed with icy water from the great snow-capped moun- 
tain opposite. The busy beavers had built a pair of 
their ingenious dams on the stream, both of them 
below this spot. Some of the sock-eye salmon had 
forced their way up over the first dam into the pool 
above; six pairs of them being counted at their life- 
work of spawning, while nineteen dead salmon showed 
that their end had come in carrying out nature's be- 
hest. Only one pair had surmounted the second dam, 
and this pair gave me an opportunity of studying with 



260 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

intense interest their actions during the process of 
spawning. 

Close to the two Douglas iirs a deep well-worn bear 
trail led down from the mountainside right to the 
edge of this brook, and from the bank at my very feet 
a bear had been catching salmon and eating them on the 
grass, as the partly eaten salmon heads scattered over 
the ground proved beyond a doubt. When the rain 
commenced on Tuesday night, we trusted that by the 
morning the cloudburst would be over, but the morning 
came with the rain just as steady as it had fallen dur- 
ing the night. 

Then I thought of the Douglas firs — a thirty-foot 
umbrella. Neil having a coyote to skin, I had him 
paddle me up the little brook to the foot of the first 
beaver dam and sent him back to the cabin to finish 
his work. In front of the dam hundreds of dead salmon 
floated upon the water, or were settled at the bottom, 
while fifty or sixty live ones were spawning among the 
gravelly stones. 

I hoped that by maintaining a day's watch under the 
sheltering arms of the pair of firs I might see one or 
more bears come down the trail and get a shot at close 
range ; so I scooped out a bed among the fir spills and 
cones, where I could lie in perfect — in fact luxurious — 
comfort for as long as I liked. 

With a copy of a monthly magazine a year old to 
read, I settled myself for a long watch. From the bed 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE GRIZZLY 261 

where I lay the pair of salmon could be seen hour after 
hour. The male, in an apparently vigorous condition, 
was lying about nine feet lower down in the stream than 
the female. There were two white pebbles close to- 
gether, and between these the male was located. The 
female was in a dilapidated and sorry-looking condi- 
tion. Her coat was of a pale red color, while his was 
a royal scarlet. Her tail and dorsal fin were nearly 
chewed off, and she appeared so weak and emaciated 
as to be hardly able to wriggle her tail. Four times 
one day and five times the next, while I was watching 
them, the male shot up the stream to where she was 
laboring and jabbed at her with his jaw and bit her tail 
with his sharp teeth. 

These attacks, of course, stirred her up to renewed 
energy for a few minutes, and he would then drop 
down to his old position. The current of the brook 
seemed to be unsteady, and many times the male 
would shoot out to the right a few feet and then re- 
turn. I presume that the current at these times had 
carried the eggs out of their general course, and as it 
was his mission to fertilize them, he would thus head 
them off. 

The whole of the first day passed in this manner, 
with nothing to divert the attention from watching the 
bear trail, excepting these two salmon and a red 
squirrel, who spent his time in gathering pine-cones 
and carrying them away in his mouth. A tiny bird, 



262 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

of the warbler species, and a grayish white moth seemed 
to like being under my shelter. These five creatures 
were my sole companions for two days — the salmon, 
of course, being a never-ending source of interest. 

Meanwhile, the rain kept up its steady downpour. 
The weather was warm, and I was extremely com- 
fortable. If a grizzly bear had come down the trail, I 
would have been content, but that one want was not 
satisfied, and, therefore, my best-laid plans went all 
" aglee." Friday morning the sun at last broke through 
the enveloping clouds of mist and rain. We decided 
to pull up stakes and return to Sandy Lake, where the 
lone bull was killed, our idea being that by this time 
bears might be feeding upon his carcass. 

We ran the boat down the river to the entrance to 
Swan Lake, and here we found that the overflow from 
the river, which had risen five feet during the down- 
pour, was rushing up the narrow entrance into Swan 
Lake, and through that lake into Spectacle Lake, three 
miles further up. We had lunch and spent the night 
at the cabin on Swan Lake, and with a stiff head wind 
against us pushed on the next morning to Spectacle 
Lake and over a portage there into Little Lake. 

In the cabin at this portage we found a note from 
the balance of our party, consisting of Drs. W. J. and 
W. R. Roe and one guide, stating that they had left on 
Tuesday for Sandy Lake and would be back that night, 
so that put an end to our trip to the remains of the 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE GRIZZLY 263 

caribou. In the meantime, in prospecting around the 
upper part of Spectacle Lake we found a long slough, 
which terminated at one end in a circular pond. In 
one corner of this pond was a well-beaten bear trail, 
and my mind was set upon lying out under some trees 
close by it. Neil said it was a likely place to shoot 
a bear if one should come down, but — you know the 
rest. 

The other men reached the cabin before dark. They 
had been at Sandy Lake tfwo days. The carcass of the 
caribou had not attracted carnivorous animals of any 
kind, and all that they had seen on the trip were the 
tracks of a large moose. They decided to go back to 
Bear Lake on the following morning, start on Monday 
morning for Barkerville, and there take the stage for 
Ashcrof t at six o'clock that evening. I decided to stay 
another week. 

On this evening Neil took me in the boat to the cove 
at the end of the slough, and having seen that I had 
everything arranged for my comfort during the night, 
left me for the cabin, which he had some difficulty in 
reaching on account of the darkness. Nothing came 
near me during the night excepting a great owl, which 
suddenly appeared right in front of me and then 
sheered off to one side and soon was lost in the pitchy 
darkness. 

Nature is very considerate of all birds of prey that 
fly by night in providing a soft downy lining of feath- 



264 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

ers for the inside of their wings which makes their 
flight a noiseless one, and thus enables them to steal 
upon the unwitting little bird as it nestles in the 
branches of a tree, or to pounce upon a rabbit as it 
capers through the grass or small bushes. 

The sky was covered with a dark canopy of clouds, 
which prevented the moon and stars from being seen, 
but at one o'clock in the morning the clouds had drifted 
away, and the moon, which was nearly at the full, came 
out in all her glory. The cover, which up to this 
time had been but a region of shadows, now became 
almost as light as day, and if Mr. Grizzly had then 
walked into the water, it would have been a fair chance 
that he would have been hit with one or more bullets 
before he reached the shore again, if indeed he had not 
been " kilt intoirely." 

It grew very cold toward daylight, and when Neil's 
canoe rounded into the cove at 6 : 20 in the morning, I 
need not say that I was very glad. Thus ended one 
week's adventure by water and land, in storm, rain and 
sunshine, leaving much to think over but little to regret. 



CHAPTEK XXIV 
HOW THE SALMON IS VANISHING 

While staying at the Bear Eiver camp I met 
John P. Babcock, fish commissioner of the province of 
British Columbia. Mr. Babcock is a man who enjoys 
an international reputation in all matters piscatorial. 
He is, above all, a recognized authority upon the habits 
of the salmon and upon the statistics relating to the 
annual catch, or " pack." He was on a tour of in- 
spection of all the salmon streams in the province. 

Bear River is the " mother stream " of an enormous 
run of sock-eye salmon and of the so-called spring 
salmon, which was the reason for his visit. I was glad 
indeed to listen to his fascinating talk on the history 
of the salmon while he was waiting for the morning 
light to enable him to start on this, his annual visit to 
the head waters of our river. 

It will perhaps be remembered that the sock-eye, 
when it makes its fatal journey to its natal spawning 
bed, is clothed in its nuptial colors, the body being of a 
brilliant scarlet, while the head, jaws and tail are of a 
bright shade of copper-colored green. 

It would be difficult for any one to see a more 
beautiful sight than that made by this magnificent fish 
when thousands of them are leaping, plunging and 



266 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

diving in the clear and ice-cold streams of this far 
northern clime on their journey to the very spot which 
their unerring instinct assures them is their own birth- 
place. 

Besides the sock-eye and the spring salmon, there 
are the humpback, the blueback, the silver and the dog 
salmon, but only the first two species visit the Bear 
River, and none of the others equal the sock-eye in 
brilliancy of coloring. 

Mr. Babcock's mission was to gauge as accurately 
as possible the dimensions of the "run" of sock-eye 
salmon for the present year. 

When the salmon eggs are hatched out and the 
young fish are able to travel to the ocean, if they reach 
it without being devoured by their numerous enemies 
by the wayside, they will surely return four years after 
to spawn and to die. Thus in four years the fish which 
were then being hatched, or those that survive, will 
return to carry out nature's injunction to perpetuate 
the species. 

In Commissioner Babcock's report for 1906 he makes 
the following warning statement : 

" In view of the fact that the catch of 1903 was 
sixty-two per cent, less than that of the previous fourth 
year, 1899 ; that the catch of 1894 was sixty-six per 
cent, less than that of 1901 ; and that the catch of this 
year is twenty-six per cent, less than that of 1902, no 
other conclusion can be reached but that the great 



HOW THE SALMON IS VANISHING 267 

fishing industry of the Frazer River district is declining 
at an alarming rate, and cannot long be maintained 
under existing conditions." 

This statement applies only to the Frazer River and 
its tributaries, of which the Bear River is one, but the 
same conditions prevail in all the other great salmon 
rivers, the Columbia River in Oregon, the Sacramento 
in California, the Skeena and the Naas in Canada, and 
the Yukon in Alaska, each and every one showing that 
the reckless slaughter of the salmon at spawning time 
is bringing about the inevitable result of a shorter and 
shorter run with each succeeding year. Man is not 
the only transgressor, although he is undoubtedly the 
most serious one. 

The very moment that the salmon appear at the 
mouths of these great rivers their arrival is heralded 
by battalions of screaming gulls, yelping seals and 
plunging sea-lions, all of which feast on the royal fish 
as they pass up the fatal streams. 

After entering the rivers they reach the dreaded set 
traps, the revolving fish-wheels, the seines, the purse 
nets, and should these be passed in safety they are 
beset by dogfish, sharks and ospreys. On the shores 
thousands of Indian boys and girls, some as young as 
six years of age, together with their parents, are at 
work almost day and night spearing the fish. 

The Indian children take to the spearing of salmon 
as naturally as they do to their mother's milk when 



268 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

babies. I have seen only one of them at work. He 
was ten years of age, and he was as quick in his 
movements with the spear as a cat after a mouse. 

Still further up-stream the grizzly bear and the 
more modest black bear are waiting for the " run," 
and it is wonderful the number which these greedy 
animals catch and eat or reserve for later use. An 
old and experienced trapper says a full-grown grizzly 
will easily bury away in his caches 3,000 salmon. 

Last, but not least, we must not forget the dip net, 
which annually claims its thousands of victims. 

When the vicissitudes of the journey up to the natal 
spawning bed have all been surmounted, the real 
troubles of the mother salmon are just beginning. 
She and her mate scoop out a depression in the gravelly 
bottom of the river or stream with their bellies and 
fins, where the eggs may sink to the bottom of the 
water and lay there in safety until the process of 
hatching out is completed. Then it would seem as if 
every living creature in that immediate locality had an 
insatiable appetite for the eggs. 

Trout take them voraciously ; mallard ducks dabble 
and dabble in the running water for them, and the 
male salmon seems to be possessed of a fierce desire to 
eat his neighbor's progeny. Worse still, in the last 
stages of the spawning process the mate will seize the 
female by the tail and cruelly bite and lacerate her. 
Whether this biting is done as a counter-irritant to 




to 



pq 






HOW THE SALMON IS VANISHING 269 

help the female in her struggle to eject the roe or from 
bad temper, no one can tell. 

As the days come and go the poor salmon become 
weaker and weaker. They eat no food from the time 
they leave the ocean and live solely upon the absorp- 
tion of their own flesh. No matter how many salmon 
have been dissected during a season, none have ever 
been found with any food in their stomachs. 

Many of them die of exhaustion before they even 
reach the spawning bed. During the process of spawn- 
ing the fish are not fit for food, and yet the Indians 
along every river where the salmon spawn spear and 
smoke them for winter food. 

We reached Bear Lake on the third of September, 
and the following morning we had our first sight of the 
splendidly colored sock-eyes. Then they were brilliant 
of hue beyond compare. Few of them were scarred by 
battle or the labor of working up the stream, although 
the spring salmon, that had arrived somewhat earlier, 
were even then showing signs of wear and tear. 

By the twenty-fifth of the same month, the majority 
of the sock-eyes were already dead. "Where we for- 
merly had seen a hundred, we now saw five and six. 
One morning, from a high bank at the upper part of 
the river, where we had seen thousands upon our first 
visit three weeks before, we could count no more than 
thirty-nine fish, and of these only two were females. 

On the far side of the river from where we stood 



270 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

there were several mounds on the sandy margin. 
These were caches made by the bears, filled with sock- 
eye salmon, and in the brush at the back were more 
caches, stored with fish for future use. The eagles, 
fish-hawks, crows, mallard ducks and gulls were having 
a ghoulish feast upon the dead and decaying fish. 

In a canoe run of eighteen miles, which I made in 
two days, while standing up and paddling in the bow 
of the boat, the sight that met my gaze was really 
sickening. The bottoms of the deep pools were lined 
with the bodies of dead salmon, in places lying cross- 
wise on top of each other, and the sandy beaches were 
strewn with the now putrid fish. 

Hundreds had been caught on the willow brush as 
they floated down on the head of a high rush of water 
that occurred two weeks before, and were now sus- 
pended and slowly rotting away a foot or more from 
the running water underneath. 

The crows spy a dead salmon more quickly than any 
other birds that I have seen ; they at once pluck out 
the eyes and leave the balance of the fish until it is in 
a decaying state. Then they gorge themselves until 
they can barely fly. 

As the waters of the rivers recede the sand-bars catch 
the dead fish in multitudes, and the air becomes vitiated 
by the stench, which in some places is almost unbear- 
able. As Shakespeare says, it is " a very ancient and 
fish-like smell ; a kind not of the newest," while the 



HOW THE SALMON IS VANISHING 271 

water itself becomes so polluted that it is not palatable 
or safe to drink. 

In daytime the sight of gluttonous birds feasting 
upon carrion is bad enough, but if we could see by 
night we would behold the mink, the skunk, the fisher, 
and perhaps some other animals, as well as the grizzly 
bear himself, all busily at work, either eating of the 
foul mess or storing it up in a convenient place for 
future use. The most pitiful sight of all, however, is 
to see the dying fish floating down the stream, first on 
its side and later on its back, without strength to swim, 
the only sign of life being perhaps the unconscious 
muscular action of wagging its tail. 

Another sight, and that a very common one, is where 
one fish has weakened more in the vicissitudes of 
the run than its mate, and while lying over upon its 
side from sheer exhaustion its mate pokes it with 
its jaws to keep stirring it up to further effort, until 
the dying one becomes stranded upon some friendly 
shoal, when its mate plunges away into deeper and 
safer waters. Man's inhumanity to man has often been 
harped upon, but the worst of men seldom become as 
cruelly cruel as the salmon are toward each other. 

From the most recent observations of the present 
"four-year" run of salmon it is safe to say that it will 
show as great a falling off in actual returns as the 
" four-year " run in 1905 did from that of its preceding 
period, and if this prediction should prove true, some- 



272 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

thing should be done to remedy the threatened extinc- 
tion of the salmon. 

It is undoubtedly true that the hatcheries, by arti- 
ficially hatching out millions of eggs, are doing some 
little to stay the inevitable hand of fate, which points 
unerringly to the destruction of the salmon packing in- 
dustry if some more drastic and revolutionary plan is 
not soon adopted. 

Five years ago the interesting and valuable beaver 
was in peril of obliteration in the province of British 
Columbia, where the beaver grows to a large size and 
is clothed with a skin that for color and texture chal- 
lenges the world. A close term of five years was then 
placed upon them, which at its expiration was extended 
for one year more. 

As a consequence, the marshy bottoms and the 
mountain streams are fairly alive with these industrious 
animals. For twenty days I was among them all the 
time, and could see their handiwork on every side. 

Their substantial dams can be found in every running- 
brook in the mountainous parts of the province. Their 
houses may be seen on every mountain stream, and 
their caches of food for the long winter months are 
being filled by thousands and thousands of the busy and 
hard-working little fellows. 

The value of the beaver lies not alone in his fur. To 
the trapper, the prospector, the surveyor, the freighter, 
the hunter and the red man his flesh is food of the 



HOW THE SALMON IS VANISHING 273 

highest value, because it is right at hand — easy to get 
and easy to prepare. 

In the deepest forest, where running water exists, 
the trap will catch him. A few minutes serves to skin 
and dress him, and yet a few minutes more to build a 
fire, put him on a stick and baste him with his own 
fat, and, presto ! a meal fit for a king is before the 
hunter. 

Every one, even the trappers, who make more 
money from the hides of the beaver than from any 
other animal, freely admit that the law passed for the 
preservation of the beaver was a just, humane and 
timely piece of legislation ; and has already proven 
that it was a wise and necessary precaution for the 
prevention of the total extinction of the animal. 

The salmon packing industry during recent years has 
reached the enormous average annual pack of 4,000,000 
cases of four dozen cans each, or 200,000,000 pounds of 
salmon. The one-pound cans of salmon are a welcome 
and economical addition to the table of the majority 
of the people of civilized countries, and if the industry 
should become a thing of the past, because of the ex- 
tinction of the fish, it would be almost an international 
calamity, and nations should join hand in hand to pro- 
tect the salmon from total destruction, the same as 
England, Canada, the United States, Japan and Russia 
have done to protect the seal. 

State and national legislation in the United States 



274 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

should encourage the establishment of more hatcheries 
for the artificial propagation of the salmon. The 
Dominion of Canada, or the province of British 
Columbia, should take concurrent action on the same 
lines, and a close time of at least every other year in a 
given period of say six years should be adopted, during 
which time no fishing by revolving wheel traps, seines, 
dip nets, spearing or in any other manner should be 
permitted for the purpose of canning, preserving, salt- 
ing or smoking the fish. 

Thus any salmon packed during the close years would 
be confiscated as illegally packed, and the offending 
packer punished by fine or imprisonment. As the 
value of the pack at the present time aggregates close 
to $30,000,000, it must necessarily mean joint action 
on the part of the states, provinces and nations inter- 
ested to bring about the best and most thorough re- 
sults. 

I am not preaching anything new, at least not 
to residents of the Pacific Coast. They already see 
the handwriting on the wall, and realize that some- 
thing must be done, and that speedily, to remedy the 
present extravagant destruction of the fish. 

British Columbia would like to see the states of 
Oregon and California and the territory of Alaska 
exact such legislation, while those states and that 
territory would be pleased immensely if British Colum- 
bia would set the example and make a close period. 



HOW THE SALMON IS VANISHING 275 

Here is an opportunity for our Secretary of State and 
the Premier of Canada to join hands in helping their re- 
spective governments to help themselves. Common 
sense dictates such a step, and financial interests should 
demand the protection and perpetuation of this great in- 
dustry. The English householder, who is now able to 
purchase a tin of good, wholesome salmon, although it 
may not be of the finest pack, for five pence half-penny 
— eleven cents — and the Canadian or American house- 
wife, who can purchase a can of like quality for ten 
cents, are each and every one interested in this serious 
and vital question. 

A close time will, of course, make prices higher for 
a few years, but in the end this would be far better 
than the total destruction of a trade which now benefits 
the entire civilized world. 

In this case the old adage, " a stitch in time saves 
nine," is a homely reminder that the sooner prompt 
and efficient action is taken to preserve the now 
vanishing salmon the better it will be for the world at 
large. 



CHAPTER XXV 

BRITISH COLUMBIA BIRDS 

Very early on the morning of October 4th I was 
awakened by a bird singing his matin song in a rollick- 
ing, joyous mood, befitting early spring rather than the 
early fall. He sang as if he was putting every atom of 
strength that he possessed into the melody, for melody 
it was. I couldn't sleep after he started, although very 
tired from the previous day's hard work. The bird was 
singing in one of a clump of cotton wood trees across the 
Bear River, and his song, while bewitching to the ear, 
was totally new to me, and I couldn't make it out. 

I turned to nudge my bedfellow — Dr. W. E. Hughes 
— and asked him if he knew what it was. He had also 
been awakened by the songster, and was then trying to 
see if he could recognize the identity of the singer. He 
ventured to say that it must be a robin, although his 
song was radically different from his eastern relatives. 
In a few minutes one of the men down-stairs — a native 
— said to a late riser : " Get up. Don't you hear the 
robin singing to you as if his heart would break ? Get 
up — get up — you laggard." And so it was a robin, but 
oh, so different from ours, and this made us note the 
various kinds of song birds and of game birds that we 
saw in this far-off part of British Columbia. 



BRITISH COLUMBIA BIRDS 277 

It will perhaps be of interest to know that in the 
vicinity of Long Lake, which we visited on September 
17th, the wild goose, the mallard duck, the red-breasted 
merganser, and the blue- winged teal, made their nests, 
laid their eggs and hatched out their young. We saw 
many very large flocks of these different species of wild 
fowl in the sheltered coves of Sandy Lake and Long 
Lake, and in the winding waters of the Iron Slough. 

A trapper who formerly ranged through this part of 
the Bear Lake territory, when he found the nests of 
the wild goose, would always take one or more eggs 
from the nest, as long as the goose hadn't started to sit 
upon them. He claimed that the goose could only 
count up to four, but as a rule they lay five eggs, and 
by robbing her of one egg a day he could keep her 
" laying all summer without setting," or until the 
gander would give up in disgust at her late hatching 
and hie himself off to other quarters in search of an- 
other mate. The young goslings make a rich feast for 
the bald eagles, who so gluttonously feed upon them 
that at times they can hardly walk from overfeeding. 

Kibbee came up to a full-grown bald eagle once, 
which was so surfeited with feasting upon the tender 
young birds that the big bird couldn't raise himself 
from the ground, and he was consequently killed with 
a canoe pole. 

The mallard duck shows much more sense than the 
goose, and if its nest or the eggs are tampered with, it 



278 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

forsakes the locality and builds a new nest in a fresh 
location. Tame ducks have never been considered 
very cleanly birds as to their feeding habits, so we 
were not surprised to learn that among the host of 
birds that gorge themselves upon the dead and fast- 
decaying salmon which pollute the air and the water of 
the Bear Biver, the mallard duck is about as greedy as 
any of them. During the time when they are thus in- 
dulging in the Bacchanalian feast, their flesh is so 
tainted as to be uneatable. 

An osprey had a nest in the top of a very tall dead 
tree. "We frequently watched her in the middle of the 
month of September flying forth and back with food 
for her young. A very late time for young birds to be 
hatched out, we thought, and we wondered if anything 
had happened that would account for such a late start 
in life for the youngsters, as in a few weeks at the 
latest winter would be upon them, and then their 
wings would be hardly able to carry them to the south- 
land. 

There were many specimens of the bald eagle to be 
seen along the course of the river, and of crows follow- 
ing the same watercourse — their name was legion ; it 
need not be said that this harvest of putrid salmon was 
partaken of until they could hardly give a warning 
"caw" or arise in flight when they were disturbed. 
There were a few ravens consorting with them with 
like ravenous appetites. 




w 
< 






« 



W 



PQ 



I 6 



BRITISH COLUMBIA BIRDS 279 

Of hawks, we saw several specimens ; the marsh 
hawk, the cooper's hawk, the sharp-shinned hawk, the 
sparrow hawk, and an occasional red-shouldered hawk. 
Our old friends, the flickers, were here in goodly 
numbers. 

The snowbirds nest in this region, and they were very 
abundant. The rusty blackbird, catbird, chickadee, 
kinglet, pine siskin, gambet, white-throated sparrow, 
and tiny humming-bird, all find food here and an 
environment suitable to their varied wants, and when 
we left showed little signs of departing for a warmer 
climate. 

One day, when I was lying behind some logs watch- 
ing for bear, a very large flock of great crested fly- 
catchers alighted upon a tree near my hiding-place. 
Whether they saw me and wanted to see what manner 
of being I was, I could not tell, but they flitted from 
tree to tree, back and forth, in their swift flight for 
over an hour, always in sight, and never staying upon 
one tree for more than five minutes or so. Before they 
left, reinforcements had reached them from several 
directions, so that when they finally flew away their 
flight was to the south and their numbers had been 
more than doubled. No doubt, they were starting 
upon their annual southern migration. 

Nearly all of the wading birds had left long before 
our arrival, and many of these, like the yellow-leg, the 
bull-headed plover, the golden plover, and the Wilson 



280 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

snipe, nest here, but they are early birds to leave. We 
saw but one golden plover, a few sandpipers, and one 
"Wilson snipe. 

By the time we took our departure, in the early days 
of October, the geese, the mallards, the teal, and the 
mergansers had disappeared, and a few loons and dip- 
pers were all that were left. 

The mighty Frazer Kiver, in British Columbia, which 
is soon to be the line of least resistance for a new trans- 
continental railroad, is an important pathway in both 
the northern and southern migration of millions upon 
millions of wild fowl, and any one who has not seen the 
hosts of birds which come down from the far north in 
September and October may in but a few years have an 
object lesson that they will long remember if they 
should take a journey along the great river during the 
faU flight. 

The Yukon and the Columbia Kivers are, likewise, 
trunk lines for the hosts of wild ducks and wild geese, 
while along the smaller watercourses may be found 
millions more of bay-birds, curlew, snipes and plover 
following the same instinct which tells them that in the 
far-off southland is food a-plenty, freedom from ice and 
snow and a sanctuary where their young can thrive 
and grow fat upon the choicest of food, and where 
they can live in peace and quietude. 

We must not forget the grouse, for there are plenty 
of willow grouse ; our old friend, the ruffled grouse, or 



BRITISH COLUMBIA BIRDS 281 

pheasant, having the same habits, but not the same fear 
of human beings, as this bird has. He will run along 
the ground or on top of a log, then fly to some near-by 
tree and sit out in the open ; a whole covey will do 
this in conjunction, and if the gunner picks off the bot- 
tom ones, one by one, he may get them all, but let him 
shoot the topmost one and the remainder will all take 
flight. 

The " fool hen," or spruce partridge, as we call it in 
Maine, also abounds here. The ptarmigan, in his coat 
of white, frequents the high mountains and generally 
may be found above the timber line. 

Just think of what a fusillade of leaden shot the wild 
ducks and wild geese will have to pass through before 
they return again in the spring. A taxidermist tells me 
that at least two geese out of every six which he 
mounts have one or more pellets of buck or T. T. shot 
in their flesh, which have been there from previous 
flights, the wounds made by the shot being all healed, 
so that until the birds were skinned the presence of 
the shot was completely hidden. 

Upon our return we passed several good-sized lakes in 
Alberta Territory and the Saskatchewan country, 
some hundreds of miles south of our hunting grounds, 
and although these lakes were partly frozen over, yet 
the open water was covered with wild geese and ducks, 
and the gunners were on hand to welcome them. 

As they fly south through the Dakotas, Minnesota, 



282 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

Wisconsin, Illinois, Missouri, the Virginias and then by 
the " Atlantic coast line " to Florida on the eastern sea- 
board, or down through the states of Washington, Ore- 
gon and California to Mexico, Central and South 
America, their flight will be punctuated at every rest- 
ing or feeding place by swiftly propelled charges of 
chilled shot. These will be fired at them from all 
manner of shotguns, from the single-barreled muzzle- 
loader, carried by the southern darkey, to the modern 
improved hammerless. 

During this southern migration it has been estimated 
that more than 500,000 guns are used by a like number 
of men and boys. A hundred cartridges for three days' 
shooting is not an excessive number to lire, and if the 
gunners are out on an average of three times in a 
season, we will have the enormous total of 150,000,000 
cartridges, containing an ounce and a quarter of shot to 
each one, or a total of over 585 tons of shot. This is 
for a single season. 

These figures may seem stupendous and perhaps may 
be excessive, but I hardly think so. Of course, if every 
shot bagged a bird the ducks would soon be extermi- 
nated, but they are becoming more and more wary with 
each passing year, and big bags are the exception now- 
adays. 

The stern enforcement in most of the states and ter- 
ritories of the game laws, which limit the shooting to 
prescribed dates and in some states to only a certain 



BRITISH COLUMBIA BIRDS 283 

number of birds that may be killed, is doing wonders 
toward the protection of wild fowl from indiscriminate 
slaughter. 

Cold storage men who buy up and store away 
feathered game for future use are now, in many of 
the states, under strict surveillance. Fortunately, the 
wild duck is a prolific breeder, and if given but half a 
chance their number will increase amazingly. 

In the extreme north, and particularly near the 
Hudson Bay Company's posts, the Indians kill large 
numbers of geese and smoke or otherwise cure them for 
winter consumption. In the olden days the Hudson 
Bay Company allowed its trappers one salmon per day 
in British Columbia and Alaska, and in Athabasca one 
wild goose or three big white fish, and up in the Arctic 
circle two fish or three pounds of reindeer, or one wild 
goose. 

Many are the families up north, even now, who must 
depend upon the wild duck or goose for their store of 
meat. So from ocean to ocean — from the Arctic circle 
to the wide pampas of Patagonia — the swift flight of 
the wild fowl stirs the blood of the sportsman, and 
sharpens the appetites of millions of residents along the 
sedgy lakes, ponds, or rivers of the fresh waters, or the 
bays, sounds and lagoons of the sea where salt marshes 
and meadows abound. 

A doctor of my acquaintance, who allowed himself 
to be tied down to a large practice so that he never 



284 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

could or would, get away for a day's recreation, once 
journeyed with me to a happy hunting ground in a bay 
off the coast of Virginia. His stay was to be only 
two days, but the time was February and a blizzard 
came along which kept him a prisoner for four days, 
and the incidents of that time were so indelibly im- 
pressed upon his mind, though the years since then are 
many, that even now he will, upon the slightest en- 
couragement, rehearse them over and over as if there 
was never anything in this wide, wide world like unto 
them. 

For instance, although he had a gun, he forgot that 
fact always when the birds came in with a swift rush 
over the decoys or until they were perhaps nearly out 
of sight. He was the third man in the boat when a 
bunch of brant came in with a grand swirl, and the 
writer and the guide each got in two shots, and eight of 
these royal birds fell at the discharge of the guns. 

When we asked him why he didn't shoot, his answer 
was : " They came so quick that I hadn't time to get 
my breath before they were gone." It so happened 
that another bunch swung in with a like result. These 
incidents are perhaps the brightest bits of real pleasure 
in his eminently busy life. 

The lure of the blue- winged teal or of the mallard 
duck brings to thousands upon thousands of men re- 
newed life, vigor, and freedom from business cares. 
The salty air puts a keen edge on their appetites. The 



BRITISH COLUMBIA BIRDS 285 

sportsman needs no sauce with his meat, for hunger is 
the best sauce of all, and when a day in the ducking 
blind will not make a hunter hungry, then he had bet- 
ter put his house in order, for he is nearing the end of 
his earthly pilgrimage. 



CHAPTER XXVI 
THE MEPHITIS-MEPHITICA 

Mephitis-mephitica is the scientific name of an 
industrious and interesting little animal whose habitat 
reaches from the Carolinas to the frozen land lying 
around Hudson's Bay, and from New York state to the 
Pacific coast. 

Mephitis has no friends — none whatever. He is 
hated by the humblest of animals, and feared by the 
biggest and strongest, including the grizzly bear him- 
self. He works mostly by night, is stealthy in his 
habits, is personally very cleanly. 

His coat is black and white, and the black is as glossy 
as satin. He has a small head, with small blinking 
eyes. His principal adornment is a very showy tail, 
which tail he usually carries in an erect position. He 
is a sort of mammalian peacock as he walks around 
with his tail hoisted, and an " I-dare-you-to-knock-the- 
chip-off-my-shoulder " air, and every other animal, even 
man himself, is content to let him alone. 

This description is deemed necessary by reason of 
some happenings that have lately come to us in the 
pursuit of big game ; and, remember, mephitis is not 



THE MEPHITIS-MEPHITICA 287 

considered " game," either big or little, and yet he is 
indeed game to the core. 

A member of this famous species, mephitis-mephitica, 
had taken possession of the earth beneath the floor of 
our first cabin on the Bear Eiver, and as she was like 
her sisters (for this one was a female and a mother at 
that) nocturnal in her habits, she annoyed us very much 
by knocking on the floor, in some manner unknown to 
us, at sundry times in the night loud enough to awaken 
a very sound sleeper, and none of us took credit for 
being anything but light sleepers. 

Our guide, being by profession a trapper, set a trap 
which he felt sure would catch the offender, and then 
he and the writer left the camp to be gone a day and 
a night. Dr. W. E. Hughes, our genial scientist, 
elected to remain indoors, as he was a bit under the 
weather. Upon our return, as our boat rounded a 
curve in the river, we looked up to the cabin which 
stands on the brow of a high hill, and we distinctly 
saw a vision of black and white moving with rapidity. 

We knew at a glance that it was the mephitis, and 
that she was in the trap. Standing in the doorway 
was our scientist with glasses on, watching out of the 
corner of his right eye the gyrations of this novel 
moving-picture show. 

He had a rifle in his hand, and was cogitating deeply 
as to whether he could shoot the top of the agile 
mother's head off, without giving her a chance to 



288 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

" shoot " him with her peculiar but efficient weapon of 
defense in return. The look upon the doctor's face was 
the most comical that I ever had seen. 

The doubt he was in was clearly shown in his counte- 
nance, and yet there was an expression of fear upon it ; 
fear that she might see him and then, without let or 
leave, " shoot " him. 

When we climbed the bank and came to the door, 
we, too, became possessed of a strange and strained 
look. A council was held. What was best to be done ; 
risk a shot ? Kibbee said no, declaring if the shot was 
not successful his cabin would become untenantable for 
at least five years. Besides, all of our clothes would 
be ruined in the " mix-up," and, as we didn't have many 
with us, this decided us there and then. 

Kibbee went to his boat and fetched up the canoe 
pole, which was eleven feet long. He climbed to the 
top of the cabin and, reaching down from above, he 
pried open the trap, and Mrs. Mephitis when released 
made a lightning bound down the bank to the river- 
side, Kibbee, our crack shot, sending a bullet after her 
as she sped away, but scoring a clean miss. 

The next day she returned to look after her kits, 
which we, for some reason or other, believed to number 
eight, although we never saw one of them. It is true 
we did not see them, but didn't we hear them and 
smell them every blessed hour ? 

Then Dr. Hughes and Kibbee took a day off, and the 



THE MEPHITIS-MEPHITICA 289 

writer spent the most of the time in penning some 
notes. On account of the quiet in the cabin, Mrs. Me- 
phitis thought it was empty, and she therefore loped 
around the front, but always kept a weather eye on 
the front door. * 

" IsTow," says I to myself, " I'll get my rifle, lay it on 
the table cocked and ready for use, and the first time 
she crosses the dead line of five yards from the cabin 
I'll blow her head off ! " 

All of that afternoon we played a duel — you'll ob- 
serve we didn't fight one, but just played one — for 
she kept such a sharp eye upon my movements that 
whenever she appeared near the dead line, and the 
slightest move on my part was made to elevate the 
rifle, like a flash she was in her burrow under the 
cabin ; and unto the end of our stay at that par- 
ticular cabin she was really " monarch of all she sur- 
veyed." 

We removed from the Bear Kiver cabin to one at 
Swan Lake. We arrived there in a drenching rain- 
storm, after fighting a head wind for several miles. 
We built a fire, ate our supper, and, being very tired, 
we went to bed early. It might be well to say right 
here that this cabin in one respect was like most of the 
others, in that everything was in dire confusion. 

It seems to be a universal practice among trappers 
to leave their dishes unwashed, the frying-pans, buckets 
and kettles in like condition and everything at sixes 



290 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

and sevens, until they are needed again. So, while the 
fire was burning up in the morning, the first thing in 
order — or shall we say " disorder " ? — was to heat water 
with which to wash up and clean the cabin outfit. 

Trappers tell me that the prime necessity in their 
business is to skin and stretch the hides of the animals 
taken in the daily catch along the trapping lines. 
Everything has to give place to this necessary, but 
disagreeable, portion of the trapper's trade. In Kib- 
bee's words, he puts it this way : " You see, when 
I get to cabin at night it may have been a-rainin' all 
day, or snowin', and my catch would seem to weigh 
a ton on my back, or in the boat. I gets into the cabin 
with, say, a half dozen marten, a couple of lynx and 
maybe three or four beavers. That, of course, would 
be when the law was a-lettin' of us catch beaver. 

" The longer the catch laid without bein' skinned the 
harder it would be to get the hides off. So we have no 
time for washin' dishes or pans or kettles. While the 
water's a-bilin' I'm a-skinnin' of the pelts as hard as I 
can." 

So now you will please imagine that in this cabin, 
ten by twelve in size, you see a bunk large enough for 
one man, a sheet-iron stove, kettles, pots, pans, tin cups, 
a few plates, knives and forks, stretchers for skins, a 
bottle of patent medicine as a " cure-all," scraps of rope, 
twine, pieces of bags and bagging, a heavy gray blan- 
ket to lie on, and a piece of sail-cloth to act as a cover 




r -o 



w 



PQ 



pq 



THE MEPHITIS-MEPHITICA 291 

for the sleeping trapper, who generally goes to rest 
with his clothes on. 

On this night of which I am writing, the dishes and 
pans, as usual, were left unwashed. There was a little 
cooked rice in one bucket and some fried moose meat in 
a frying-pan left from supper. Kibbee and I got into the 
bunk, which was only intended for one person, but by 
sleeping head to foot we managed to get on quite well. 

Dr. Hughes was on the floor in his sleeping bag, one- 
half of which extended under the bunk, while the other 
half projected out until it nearly touched the open door- 
way. The door was always left open, that being the 
only means of ventilation. We were not long in for- 
getting in sleep the labors of the day. 

About midnight Kibbee kicked me in the head with 
his naked foot and asked if I could find my electric 
bulb. He said there was some good-sized animal 
prowling around, and he would like to see what it was. 

The bulb was handed to him, and while still lying in 
bed he pointed the electric light to all parts of the 
cabin without seeing anything particularly dangerous. 
Two rats and a weasel scampered away, or perhaps it 
was only two mice and a weasel, for things look large 
to you under such circumstances, and yet the expected 
larger animal was not to be seen. 

A shaft of light was now thrown behind the open 
door. Here were standing two rifles, and in between 
and behind them was another member of the mephitis- 



292 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

mephitica family with eyes of unusual brilliancy fixed 
right upon us. 

This one was a male, and he was crowded back so 
close to the cabin wall that his famous and dreaded tail 
could not be held erect, because there wasn't room for 
it. Kibbee, the " scientist," and the writer counseled 
as to what was best to be done. 

Kibbee said that if left alone it might bite one of our 
ears or noses while we slept. This, the scientist said, 
was but " the fiction of a diseased brain," that there 
was no case on record of any such happening. Kibbee 
stuck to this belief, and wanted to shoot there and 
then. 

He said that when he was a boy, his father, who 
lived in Montana, used to dig the mephitis out of his 
hole, and that when the animal first saw the light he 
would turn himself around with his tail to the light. 
His father would grab the tail with his hand, and, 
holding the animal straight up by his caudal appendage, 
he would chop his head off with an axe, for in this 
position the mephitis was absolutely harmless. In 
proof of Kibbee's assertion, this animal was even now 
turning his tail to the light. 

He commenced to wriggle himself around so that 
his head would be against the front of the cabin and 
his dangerous tail would be free ; seeing this, Kibbee 
said there was nothing now to be done but to " douse 
the glim " and sleep it out, trusting to luck to awake 



THE MEPHITIS-MEPHITICA 293 

next morning with our ears and noses in their proper 
places untouched and unharmed. 

The scientist said there wasn't the slightest danger 
of an attack from the black-and-white beauty, but all 
the same he was very careful himself to put his head 
beneath the sheltering folds of his sleeping bag. 

I lay awake for an hour or more, and I thought I 
heard Mr. Mephitis wending his way out from behind 
the door and then nosing around the scalp and hide of 
our big caribou, which was hanging up on poles outside. 
The weasel, the rats or the mice came back and rum- 
maged through the pots and pans to their hearts' con- 
tent — one of them did indeed run over my face, and 
Dr. Hughes was certain that one ran over his head, but 
he admitted that his head was inside of the bag. 

" All's well that ends well," and we awoke the next 
morning with ears and noses intact ; with the never- 
ending rain pouring down ; with the wind in the wrong 
quarter ; with a loon laughing at us from across the 
thoroughfare ; with a red squirrel chattering on the 
roof and a pair of camp birds pecking scraps of fat 
from the hide of the lone bull of Sandy Lake. 

For those who never heard of the mephitis-mephitica, 
it should be said that besides his classical appellation, 
he rejoices in two common names, by either of which 
you may call him and he will not be offended. In 
some parts of the country he goes by the name of pole- 
cat ; out here his regular name is skunk. 



CHAPTEK XXVII 

PERILS AND HARDSHIPS THAT MUST BE 
ENDURED 

Dr. Hughes and I were anxious to make a trip 
either from the Bear River to the mighty Frazer River, 
or by way of the Goat River trail, a distance of sixty 
miles, from Bear Lake to the Upper Frazer ; in either 
event to canoe down the Frazer to Quesnelle where we 
would take the steamer for Soda Creek, and there catch 
the stage for Ashcroft. 

On the stage to Barkerville we met a bright, courte- 
ous and intelligent Englishman, who was a "squaw 
man," that is, he had married a Siwash Indian woman. 

He recommended us to arrange for a couple of 
Indians with a boat to paddle us down the Frazer to 
Quesnelle. This man said that the Goat River trail 
was a bad one. The mountains on each side were said 
to be much frequented by mountain goats and bears. 

On our arrival at Quesnelle we arranged with the 
manager of the Hudson Bay Company, that when we 
reached Barkerville, if we could get men and horses to 
go through with us by the Goat River route to the 
Frazer, we would wire him to have the Indian helpers 
ready. 

At Barkerville we failed to find any one that had 



PERILS THAT MUST BE ENDURED 295 

the slightest desire to make the trip, and money did 
not seem to tempt them. The route had such a bad 
name from disasters to previous expeditions, that we 
reluctantly had to give up the project, although the 
doctor and I would have gladly walked the entire 
distance and carried a light pack into the bargain. 
Still it was imperative that we should have horses to 
carry the provisions, clothing, etc., and men owning 
the horses didn't care about risking them on the trail. 

The next thing we tried was to find some one 
familiar with the Lower Bear Eiver, to go down with 
us either in a boat or canoe to its mouth, where it en- 
ters the Frazer Kiver. There are two bad canyons in 
the Bear River which at certain stages of the water are 
dangerous. One man who went through four years ago 
told us that no money could hire him to undertake it 
again. 

There were accounts of another man who had made 
his will before risking the trip, and yet he came out 
alive ; of another who had swamped, but was saved. 
This man we met — a strong, robust young fellow. He 
agreed with us that if we would pay for a new boat 
and give him ten dollars per day he would take us 
through to the Frazer by way of the Bear River. "We 
therefore engaged him, and he promised faithfully to 
meet us at the mouth of Bear Lake on September 26th 
to start on the following morning. 

In accordance with this agreement, Dr. Hughes and 



296 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

the writer left the Upper Bear Kiver on Saturday the 
25th, and arrived at noon at the main cabin at the 
mouth of Bear Lake. No word, however, had as yet 
come from our man, so the only thing to do was to 
wait. 

On Sunday afternoon, while waiting for the guide to 
appear with his boat, Dr. Hughes and the writer took 
a stroll down the tract for a distance of four and a 
half miles. "We then sat down about one hundred yards 
apart as we had crossed several fresh bear trails on the 
way, and the surroundings looked more like business 
with bears than anything that we had yet seen. 

I might say right here that so far, in spite of our 
hard and earnest daily work and that, too, without any 
let-up on account of the rain, snow, hail or sleet, for 
the weather had been extremely wet, we had not yet 
seen a bear, either grizzly or black. The willow brush, 
which flourishes in wanton growth on each side of the 
running streams, formed an impenetrable screen, be- 
hind which a prowling bear might be as safe from 
discovery and attack as if it were at the North Pole. 

There are no roads of any kind in this country arrd 
no trails, excepting those made by beaver and bear. 
The beaver trails do not run very far, and those made 
by the bears after leaving the sandy edge of the streams 
are not well marked when the big woods are reached, 
for bruin has a habit of walking on the tops of logs, 
thus causing great gaps in his trail. 



PERILS THAT MUST BE ENDURED 297 

The doctor and the writer sat near to the burnt 
land until it became dark without seeing anything 
whatever, and we very reluctantly retraced our steps 
to the cabin. On the walk back we heard two rifle 
shots fired on the river, and we surmised that they 
were signal shots fired by our guide for the Lower Bear 
.River journey. We sat up quite late, expecting him to 
arrive at any minute, but he failed to put in an ap- 
pearance. 

The following morning there was no word or sight 
of him, so we reluctantly gave him up, and the pro- 
posed fateful journey down the Bear Kiver as well. 
This was a great disappointment to us, as we had raised 
our hopes to a high pinnacle of future success in canoe- 
ing down the two rivers, and to see them drop like a 
house of cards vexed us sorely. 

It had been agreed that in case the man did fail us 
Dr. Hughes would take Kibbee and another man with 
horses and travel to Indian Point Lake. Moose were 
said to frequent that lake and a smaller body of water 
named Beaver Lake. Then, after hunting around these 
two pieces of water, Kibbee and the doctor would climb 
a high mountain — as yet unnamed — in search of moun- 
tain goats, while a boatman was to go with me back to 
the Upper Bear Biver again. 

So Neil, the boatman, and the writer pushed off 
early in the morning in the face of a fierce wind blow- 
ing straight in our faces. Dr. Hughes and Kibbee 



298 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

started down toward the burnt land to round up the 
horses at the same time. 

So far the doctor had not even had a shot at game 
of any kind, with the exception of his killing a 
mephitis-mephitica, and that couldn't be called game 
by the widest stretch of courtesy. It is, however, 
most always that the unexpected happens in hunting. 
The two men walked along the beaten horse trail 
following the river, looking and listening for the 
horses. 

They had passed the spot by about a mile where we 
had sat watching during the afternoon of the day be- 
fore, when they saw something like a ball of fur run 
up a Cottonwood tree, followed by another ball of the 
same kind of fur. The two climbing balls were in 
reality two black bear cubs. 

Kibbee warned the doctor to look out for the mother 
and not to worry about the cubs. She was finally dis- 
covered squatting contentedly and eating with ap- 
parent gusto the big luscious blueberries from a heavily- 
laden bush, which she held in her front paws. 

Our good friend, Dr. Hughes, has wide fame among 
doctors as a diagnostician. I am informed that the 
first qualification for a good diagnostician is a calm and 
even disposition. Such a man must never show worry 
or haste ; he must be careful, deliberate and thought- 
ful, and he must positively be discreet, and our doctor 
has all of these necessary adjuncts developed to the 



PERILS THAT MUST BE ENDURED 299 

fullest extent. Please now note the following narra- 
tive as told by his companion Kibbee : 

" I'll be hanged if I ever seed such a cool, unnervous, 
unexcitable man as that there Dr. Hughes is. When 
we spied the old she bear fust she was a-sittin' on her 
haunches eatin' blueberries in big mouthfuls. As she 
crushed them in her mouth the juice would squirt out 
of each side of her jaws, and she never noticed us ; she 
was too busy lickin' her chops and pullin' the berries 
off' n the bushes. 

" The doctor has two sets of glasses — one for shootin' 
and the other for walkin'. As soon as he seed her he 
deliberately takes off his walkin' glasses and puts them 
into a case and puts that case into his left vest pocket. 
Then he takes outen his right vest pocket his other 
glasses, also in a case. That case was tied by a piece 
of string in a knot. 

" He unties the string, rolls it up and puts it in his 
pocket, opens the case, takes out the glasses, puts them 
on and then carefully puts the case back into the right- 
hand pocket of his vest. He next raises the rifle, 
sights it at the old bear, a still settin' on her haunches, 
pulls the trigger and, jimminy crickets, the old gal 
rolls over dead. 

" Then he and me got mixed up with the two cubs; 
for in place of shootin' at the two we only shot at one, 
and the other got lost in the shuffle." 

They skinned the two bears as speedily as they 



300 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

could, and, leaving the carcasses where they lay, the 
search for the horses was resumed, and they were 
finally found fourteen miles down the river. By the 
time they were brought back, the bear hides picked up 
and all had arrived at the cabin the day was far ad- 
vanced. A hasty meal was eaten, the horses were 
loaded and late in the afternoon they started on their 
mountain trip. 

At the two small lakes plenty of tracks of moose 
were seen, but no moose. The mountain was climbed 
with considerable difficulty and not a little privation. 
A night was spent above the timber line, where the 
cold was very severe and the snow was deep and soft, 
and where they couldn't get any water to drink or in 
which to boil their rice. When daylight once more 
greeted them they were hungry and cold, and, being 
without food, the doctor, like Falstaff indeed might 
have said : " My belly's as cold as if I had swallowed 
snowballs for pills." 

Kibbee had dinned the doctor's ears with stories of 
the multitudes of whistling marmots which they would 
find upon the mountain, and you know the skins of 
these interesting animals make a fur that is much in 
request by fair dames for automobile coats or wraps. 
Alack-a-day, another disappointment, for the whistling 
marmots were all — every one of them — holed up for 
the winter, and the hunters couldn't possibly wait until 
spring should come. 



PERILS THAT MUST BE ENDURED 301 

As for mountain goats, neither the goats nor their 
tracks could be seen with plain eye-glasses, or the most 
powerful binoculars, and they were constrained to re- 
turn on the following Sunday night, without game of 
any kind outside of the rich experience which they 
had. 

It had been agreed that Drs. Roe, Dr. Hughes and 
the writer should all come together again on Sunday, 
the 3d day of October, as the Eoe brothers were to 
start for home on the Monday morning following. I 
expected that Dr. Hughes would stay over with me for 
yet another stage. 

Dr. Hughes finally decided that he must go with 
the other two hunters, and the writer was equally 
determined that he would stay until the next stage, 
and leave early on the following Thursday morning, 
hoping in the meantime that he might be able to see 
and to get a shot at a grizzly. That having been the 
prime object of the trip, he was loath to leave without 
its accomplishment. 

Therefore, according to program, the other three 
hunters were off at an early hour Monday morning to 
cross the trail to Barkerville, taking all six horses with 
them, and also a telegram to be forwarded to Phila- 
delphia that I would be out by the following stage. 

The writer's mind had been for a couple of days 
centred upon the possibility that the carcass of the 
black bear which was still lying on the burnt land five 



302 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

and a half miles down the river might by this time 
have become putrid enough to attract some roving 
grizzly to feed upon it, or to cover it up, according to 
bear custom, for future use. 

So, even before his comrades started, he bid them 
farewell, and was off to the burnt land. A copious 
rain during the night had made the willow brush very 
wet, so that when the scene of the black bear's last 
feast of blueberries was reached, he was wet through 
and through. In addition, a high wind was blowing 
down the river, and he was thus liable to do more harm 
than good in watching for a bear which would be pretty 
certain to get his scent. Therefore, he returned to the 
cabin at noontime. Kibbee, in the afternoon, went 
down the river in the boat to see if there were any 
fresh signs and returned without having seen any. 

Tuesday morning both of us were off at daybreak, 
and when the burnt land was reached we found the 
carcass of the black bear yet unmolested. I had lunch 
with me, and having found a spot in a corner formed 
by two large logs lying at right angles, where the 
carcass was in plain sight, I fixed up a comfortable seat 
and prepared to spend the day there ; Kibbee, in the 
meantime, going down the river some fourteen miles to 
visit a half-breed, upon whose territory we were hunting. 

Nothing happened during the day with the excep- 
tion of a violent thunder and hail storm that moved 
down a valley behind a high range of mountains to 




CO 



U 



PERILS THAT MUST BE ENDURED 303 

Bear Lake, and then suddenly turned and swept down 
the river with a furious clatter and roar. 

Having seen it coming, I prepared by pulling a 
rubber blanket over me, and weighting it down with 
the rifle. The storm was perhaps fifteen minutes in 
passing and left in its wake on the ground over an 
inch of hailstones. For lunch, cold boiled rice brought 
along in a tin pail and plenty of big blueberries satisfied 
my hunger. 

The day wore on, and when the wind commenced 
to blow in gusts I reluctantly turned my steps once 
more toward the cabin, but before it was reached 
another rain and hail storm deluged the land. 

Wednesday morning dawned bright and clear, and 
once more we were off to the land of blueberries and 
bear meat. Before getting to the carcass we discovered 
with great joy that during the night a grizzly bear had 
been there ; that it had removed the carcass to a 
place where it had covered or cached it with soft 
earth and leaves. Indeed we had probably scared it 
away as the carcass was left but partly covered. 

We were to start out over the trail on the following 
morning, Thursday. It seemed best, therefore, for 
Kibbee to go down the river bench until he could 
corral three horses to take us out to Barkerville, and 
for me to lie concealed near the carcass until his return. 
It may be easily imagined that I was all eyes for a 
moving object of any kind. 



304 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

The hours dragged slowly along during the fore- 
noon, and nothing appeared to divert the mind ex- 
cepting a very large flock of that lively little bird, the 
crested flycatcher. These birds flew from tree to 
tree, backward and forward, for an hour or more, 
their numbers constantly augmenting, until at a signal 
from one or more of the leaders among them they all, 
to the number of hundreds, started on a flight to the 
southland. Another cold lunch of boiled rice was 
eaten, and the afternoon arrived ; still no signs of any- 
thing exciting. 

Finally I saw a swaying willow bush, and then 
another, and yet another. Mentally I said : " At last, 
at last, I'm to have a shot." The hammer of the rifle 
was pulled back, and, expecting to see a bear every 
instant, I was on the keen edge of suspense, when the 
agile form of Kibbee came into view. He had been 
making his way up to me as swiftly and as silently as 
he could. 

The horses he had left a piece down the trail, so as 
not to disturb things if any game was within sight or 
hearing. The time was half-past three in the after- 
noon. It looked as if another great storm were brew- 
ing, for the wind was already gathering quite a veloc- 
ity, and, although I had come prepared to lie out all 
night, the certainty of a windy and stormy period de- 
cided us against such a plan. 

This was now the last clay, and the chances were 



PERILS THAT MUST BE ENDURED 305 

as a thousand to one that I would have to return home 
without a grizzly. We discussed ways and means for 
some few minutes, and then it was decided to build 
a structure out of saplings and logs, and in its furthest 
part to place the now loud-smelling bear meat. Then 
to strap a rifle to two cross-bars so firmly fixed that 
if the trigger was touched the rifle would be tired 
and there would be no recoil. If the bear should re- 
turn and enter the improvised bear den there might be 
one chance in fifty that he would get shot before he 
would be able to retreat. 

Therefore, the first thing to be done was to drag 
the carcass over to the butt end of a blown down tree, 
then saplings and logs were placed around it in an A 
shape, with guiding pieces of brush or saplings to con- 
tinually narroAv the space as the bear crawled in. 

Guides were fixed overhead to compel the bear to 
get down on all fours and then on his belly, in order 
to reach the meat with his front paws. Right in front 
of the meat, and fixed perpendicularly, was the rifle, 
with the muzzle left just high enough to clear the 
animal in its struggle to reach the carcass. One end 
of a cord was attached to the carcass while the other 
end was fastened to the trigger of the rifle, and the 
trigger was set. 

When all this was done, and the ground cleared of 
bits of chopped sticks, etc., everything was in readi- 
ness for a possible visit from the bear that had that 



306 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

very morning taken possession of the decaying 
carcass. 

It was believed by both of us that if the threatened 
storm did break it would, of course, effectually destroy 
our scent, and there would be a chance of the bear 
crawling into the artificial den and getting in range 
with the bullet by creeping forward on his belly and 
reaching out with his paws ; but if it shouldn't rain, then 
nothing would be doing and I should be compelled to 
return empty-handed as far as a bear was concerned. 
So we left for the night and led the horses along with 
us, arriving at the cabin some time after dark. 

We sat down to supper, but before a bite was eaten 
a flash of vivid lightning and a peal of thunder startled 
and rejoiced us. These were followed by another hail- 
storm and then a deluge of rain, and, listening to its 
pattering on the roof, we retired to rest, anxious as to 
what the morning light would develop down on the 
blueberry barren. 

I was up at four o'clock in the morning and packed 
all of my belongings in the dunnage bags, ready for 
the packhorses. When this was done breakfast was 
ready, and it was not long before Kibbee, Duffy (the 
half-breed trapper) and the writer were off for the bear 
ground, to see what it had in store for us. 

Kibbee led the way and took an easy pace, making 
no noise whatever as he slid along ahead of us. When 
we got in sight of the " contraption," however, he 



PERILS THAT MUST BE ENDURED 307 

stopped and we all looked in every direction to see if 
there was anything moving, but all Avas still. Then he 
was off to our novel trap at a lively gait. We soon 
heard a yell from him. 

"We've got her and she's a grizzly for sure, and 
she's still warm," he cried. We were there in no time, 
and there, indeed, she was, jammed in so tight in order 
to get at her breakfast that we couldn't turn her, but 
the three of us dragged her out and viewed her over. 

She had been killed instantly ; the bullet had passed 
downward between her shoulders, and had pierced 
her heart and liver ; she hadn't moved after being shot. 

The two trappers pronounced her to be a four-year- 
old female grizzly, and said she had never been a 
mother, and consequently she was just rolling in fat. 
We removed about sixty pounds of this white and 
beautiful looking fat from her back and shoulders and 
about ten pounds from the intestines. 

The skin was a very heavy one, but somewhat worn 
on the haunches from sitting down while feeding on 
the rich bunches of blueberries. 

Kibbee carefully removed the gall bladder, which 
is much in demand by Chinamen as a cure for indiges- 
tion, and for which they will readily pay from $1.50 
to $2.00. With one man carrying the fat and the 
other the hide, we left the burnt land at half-past ten. 

Now a heavy grizzly hide is not an easy thing to 
carry and neither is seventy pounds of fat, so we had 



308 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

a tedious journey to the cabin. To my surprise the 
hide was literally alive with lice, great big ones, and 
these had got inside our clothing — even down into our 
boots. They were something of the size and appear- 
ance of bedbugs, only they were more lively. They 
didn't bite or worry us excepting that their crawling 
propensities were very unpleasant. 

The hide was chucked into a coffee sack so as to get 
rid of the creeping pests. In less than ten minutes, 
the outside of the bag was alive with them ; how they 
managed to crawl through the meshes no one could 
imagine. At Barkerville the bundle was incased in 
yet another sack — this time a finer woven one, but 
still they managed to get through both sacks. 

Five days afterward, when packing our stuff into a 
big trunk at Ashcroft, they were yet in evidence. 
When the trunk finally arrived at its destination, in 
Philadelphia, fourteen days after leaving Bear Lake, 
there wasn't a sign of one anywhere to be seen. 
They had got out of the trunk and no doubt had 
spread themselves out in platoons in the baggage-car. 

After getting everything in readiness for breaking 
camp that last day at Bear Lake, we made a hurried 
meal, saddled the horses, boated the stuff to be 
" packed " out on horseback across the river, swam and 
waded the horses over, and then put the last finishing 
touches to the packs. At 1 : 30 P. M., we touched the 
horses with the lithe willow brush branches and were 



PERILS THAT MUST BE ENDURED 309 

off for home, and the hunting trip of 1909 was a thing 
of the past. 

" The trails of the world be countless, and most of the 

trails be tried : 
You tread on the heels of the many, till you come 

where the ways divide : 
And one lies safe in the sunlight, and the other is 

dreary and wan : 
Yet you look aslant at the lone trail, and the lone trail 

lures you on. 
And somehow you're sick of the highway, with its 

noise and its easy needs, 
And you seek the risk of the byway, and you reck not 

where it leads." 



CHAPTEK XXVIII 
AN EXCITING TRIP THROUGH A NEW COUNTRY 

We got under way on the outward trip upon a day 
that looked " all to the good " so far as the weather 
was concerned, but in the particular section of British 
Columbia that had been our stamping ground for six 
weeks there was really no such thing as predicting 
what sort of weather it would be, even for such a short 
period as an hour or more. 

It is hard to describe this trail, because there is noth- 
ing that I have ever seen in the East to compare it 
with. It follows along the shore of Bear Lake for a 
few hundred yards, at times making a slight excursion 
into the woods where the water on the shore of the 
lake is too deep for the horses to wade, and then out 
again. 

When the trail leaves the lake finally, it does so at 
right angles, and for about five miles it meanders 
through burnt land, where the fallen trees have been 
sawed through twice, so as to cut out a pathway about 
three feet wide. 

The horse which I rode was a cayuse, blind in one 
eye — the right eye. With his good left eye he saw to 
it that he didn't get near the points of the logs as we 
wound around in a serpentine way. The other side, 



AN EXCITING TRIP 311 

however, he couldn't see, and so he was almost contin- 
ually running into logs which faced us and logs which 
paralleled our path, and my shin, knee and right leg 
were soon bruised and scarred. 

The trail wound ever upward, until the peak of the 
first mountain was reached, and then, without any pre- 
monition, it started down again at such a pitch that 
the horses had to slide a little of the way. At the bot- 
tom there was of a truth a canyon — dark, moist and 
deep. 

The trail led up the side of the next mountain, in 
places hanging on like a thread. The storms of the 
few previous days had blown down many trees over 
our pathway, and it was necessary to chop these into 
two sections and cast them down the side of the moun- 
tain before we could pass. 

The government land commissioner at Barkerville, 
George W. Walker, had with rare courtesy and fore- 
thought sent a man out over the trail a week before to 
cut out the dead falls, for our convenience, or else our 
difficulties would have been much more serious than 
they were. Before darkness overtook us we counted 
one hundred and five obstructions that had been cut 
through with a cross-cut saw and removed. 

A second peak having been scaled, down we went 
again — " Down, down among the dead men," as the 
old song says — and at the bottom of the canyon we 
struck green timber, and dense darkness enveloped us. 



312 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

The trail was now over rocks, and slippery with run- 
ning water flowing in tiny streams among them. Mud 
of the stickiest kind was encountered ; the horse, in- 
stead of jamming my right leg against logs which 
sometimes would move, now ran me into large boulders 
that had fallen down from the side of the mountain 
and lodged on the trail. 

The saddle was too wide for me to ride in comfort, 
and it seemed best to dismount and walk. Fortunately 
the cayuse was white, and by keeping close up to him 
I could be guided by his color ; but it was a continual 
series of stumbles, first for the horse and then for myself. 

As for the mud, it covered my trousers and tall 
leather boots. Kibbee kept on ahead, singing blithely 
to cheer up old " Maud," the packhorse. Three times 
the wise old horse stopped when the tips of the caribou 
antlers struck against an obstruction overhead. Each 
was a tree that had blown down across the trail, but 
had lodged against other trees. It was necessary to 
feel for the trees in the darkness and then cut them out 
with the axe, and all the while " Maud " stood like a 
statue. 

There's an end to all bad roads and trails, as there 
was to this one. The night had become very cold, and 
when we emerged from the trail into the stage road 
running into Barkerville the muddy road had frozen 
over in places and everywhere the mud was stiff, and 
after stumbling over it for three miles, the lights from 



AN EXCITING TRIP 313 

the famous gold mining town were, indeed, welcome 
sights. 

When we drew up in front of the hotel, Dr. W. J. 
Eoe was discovered sitting alongside of the big stove 
in his stocking feet. We asked him to give us a lift in 
unloading the packhorse. His only answer was to 
shake his head. 

" What's the matter with you ; have you lost both 
your father and your mother ? " we asked him, and yet 
not an intelligible word came from him. It developed 
that he had but a few minutes before returned from an 
arduous ride and tramp after a wounded grizzly, and 
that he was so tired and done up that articulate speech 
was a hardship for him. 

On the previous Wednesday, a hunter had killed a 
caribou on Agnes Mountain and had taken away the 
head and hide, leaving the meat to be carried down by 
some Chinamen the following day. When the Orien- 
tals found the carcass in the morning they fled precipi- 
tately down the side of the mountain, back to Barker- 
ville, and gave out the startling information that no 
less than five bears were feeding upon the meat. 

The spokesman said, "Belly too much bear — tree 
brownie bear — tree blackie bear — one white bear," but 
this made seven, instead of five. The hunter and his 
guide mounted a pair of saddle horses when they heard 
this news, and away they started after the bear con- 
vention. 



314 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

Sure enough, they did see one bear when they came 
in sight of the dead caribou ; it was a grizzly, and the 
bullets flew thick and fast as the beast fled before 
them. They wounded the bear in the right hip, and 
the men returned, much crestfallen, without him. 

The hunter who had shot it decided to go out for 
home by the stage that day, as he said his time was up, 
and his guide then laid siege to our " W. J.," asking 
him to postpone his going until the next trip of the 
stage and to accompany him upon an expedition in 
search of the wounded bear. 

This project looked good to our comrade. They 
mutually clasped hands upon the proposition, got a pair 
of trusty horses, some grub, and on Tuesday morning 
off they went, full of hope and enthusiasm. The trail 
of the bear was easily found by the quantity of blood 
which he had lost, but it was not so easy to hold, as 
the bleeding was not by any means continuous. 

It led them to the peak of the mountain and then 
downward. The men tethered their horses near the 
top and followed it around and around the sides of the 
mountain ; it seemed to be continually descending. 
This made the hunters believe that its wound prevented 
it from going upward, and that its only recourse was 
to go down ; so they went down until darkness nearly 
overtook them, and, of course, a climb back again to 
the horses was necessary, the climb being a distance of 
fifteen hundred feet. 




O) 



U 



Oh 



AN EXCITING TRIP 315 

When the horses were at last found and mounted 
they managed to get down the steep declivity by walk- 
ing some and sliding more, and the first day's quest 
was a failure. 

The second day almost the same program was fol- 
lowed. In some tall grass the bear's bed of the 
night before was discovered, and everything looked 
hopeful, but again the day's work ended in a complete 
failure. 

Thursday they managed to "jump" him among 
rocks, and then our " Jim " did some rare sprinting, 
with his respiration bordering upon 300. He is of 
Falstafflan dimensions. His sweater was cast aside in 
the run ; next his coat, followed by a pair of trousers 
and his hat, the guide encouraging him to " Come on, 
come on." 

There were logs a-many ; some were slippery,- and 
over these the trail must lead ; and need it be wondered 
at that our doughty companion often fell ! He once 
slipped and slid feet first down a portion of the steep 
mountainside. The guide said he could hear the bear 
crashing through the bushes, but, alas ! he couldn't get 
close enough to see him. He was always twenty min- 
utes behind the bear, or, to put it more plainly, the 
bear was twenty minutes ahead of him. 

So once more a pair of weary men came down the 
hill without the bear, and as they had arrived but ten 
minutes before us, " W. J." had not had time to get 



316 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

rested. This was his last day's hunt. The chase was 
resumed, however, on Friday by the guide and a 
partner. 

At first they met with some prospects of success, but 
a snow-storm started, which kept getting heavier and 
heavier, until all signs of the trail were obliterated, and 
the hunt was called off for good. 

Therefore, it is fair to assume that that particular 
bear is at the present time safely housed up for the 
winter, and that he will sleep until spring, and 
then he'll have to hustle for his food in right good 
earnest. 

The packhorse being unloaded, and the other horses 
sent to their stalls, a smiling Chinaman's hand was 
crossed with a dollar bill and he was asked to get us 
food. We wanted something that would not " clog the 
hungry edge of appetite by bare imagination of a feast," 
and after that a hot bath to take the kinks out of a tired 
and much-abused spine. In due time the Chinaman 
managed to set before each of us a tenderloin steak, 
with onions, potatoes and tomatoes, and we ate and 
were merry. After the good supper and the hot bath, 
our sleep was sound and long. 

The stage was advertised to start at two o'clock the 
following afternoon, and there was no reason why it 
shouldn't have done so. The driver — a stolid English- 
man — moved with exasperating slowness. He had all 
of the forenoon in which to get ready, but he was in no 



AN EXCITING TRIP 317 

hurry, and " fiddled " around taking life easy until five 
minutes past three, and then we were off with four 
horses hauling us, and a little snow falling. 

On the stage was a woman, a native, born in Barker- 
ville, and a little girl, whom she was going to take out 
to school in the Kootenay country ; a blacksmith be- 
longing to the stage company, and another man. We 
were told that we would arrive in Stanley, fourteen 
miles away, for supper at six o'clock, if we started on 
time. Had we left at two, we probably should have 
done so ; but the snow came down thicker and thicker 
as we climbed mountain after mountain, and it was late 
when we reached Stanley, and later still when we left 
there for Cottonwood, where we were to spend the 
night. The snow now turned to rain. 

"We should have been in front of the big stove in the 
Cottonwood house at ten o'clock, but it was after one 
in the morning when the bedraggled woman and child 
and the rest of us got there. The finery of the females 
was all drenching wet ; hats, feathers and other fixings 
were apparently ruined. The bunch of us sat around 
a big hot stove until nearly three o'clock, and then we 
were off to bed to sleep until six. 

Saturday morning snow and slush covered the ground 
and it still rained. The road now became very muddy 
and heavy, and the best the horses could do for many 
miles was a walk. At 1 p. m. Quesnelle on the 
Frazer Kiver was reached. Here we took the steamer 



318 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

Charlotte for a ride down this mighty river to Soda 
Creek. We just had time to run in and shake hands 
with Mr. Collins, the manager of the Hudson Bay Com- 
pany at Quesnelle, when the whistle blew for the 
steamer's start, and off we went. 

The passenger list of the Charlotte contained many 
Siwash Indians, some Chinamen going back to China, 
timber prospectors, lumbermen and sportsmen. The 
ride down the stream was intensely interesting by 
reason of the ever-changing scenery, the rushing water, 
and occasional small flights of ducks. 

After an hour's run a man on the right-hand bank 
signaled to us. The boat was turned around head up- 
stream and then worked to the shore, where it turned 
out that the man carried " the royal mail," and this 
having been taken aboard and the inward bound mail 
given to the man, we again proceeded for another hour, 
Avhen the boat was swung around again to take on fire- 
wood for the boiler. 

The boat was to stay from an hour to an hour and a 
quarter in loading the fire-wood. Here, then, was an 
opportunity for a good long walk on the bench of land 
between the great river and the mountains at the back. 
I was not long in getting out on the brown earth, and 
covered two or three miles before returning. 

On climbing down the bank to the water's edge, I 
saw some very peculiarly colored stones in the water. 
I picked a small paper bag full of the oddest looking 



AN EXCITING TRIP 319 

ones, which were brought to Philadelphia and shown 
to a lapidary, Avho couldn't even classify them. I had 
them cut up and made into stick pins, brooches and 
rings, and they made very novel and acceptable Christ- 
mas presents. 

We were stopped once more on signal from a woman 
who was waiting on the bank. She, with her baggage, 
was soon aboard, and then the journey was completed 
without interruption. 

Soda Creek is a little village nestling close to the 
Frazer Kiver, with one so-called hotel and, say, a half 
dozen houses. It was pitch dark when we arrived at 
the landing and the road very muddy from the excess- 
ive rains. The arrangement for the luggage owned 
by the passengers was that it should stay until the 
stage should arrive from Ashcroft, due at 10:30 o'clock, 
when the stuff for the up-river trip was unloaded from 
the stage to the steamer. 

Our stuff would then be loaded upon the same stage, 
where it would remain out in the open until noon of 
the next day exposed to the rain or snow all of that 
time. 

I had two dunnage bags weighing about eighty 
pounds each. The night was dark and it was pouring 
rain. I didn't know the way, and the so-called hotel 
was said to be a quarter of a mile away and up a fairly 
steep bank. 

I asked the purser — an Englishman — if he would al- 



320 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

low me to hire one of the steamer's men to carry up 
my sacks for me. He replied, No ; he had no men to 
spare. I shouldered one of the bags weighing eighty 
pounds, and walked down the narrow gangplank be- 
hind the Barkerville woman and child. 

They were also compelled to carry their baggage, 
while the consequential purser came after us and 
walked off with a lantern by himself, and never stopped 
either to help the women down the narrow plank in 
the dark or to show them the way with his light. 
That was a long quarter of a mile, with an eighty- 
pound sack and me stumbling along the road. 

A gate was reached which led to a way through 
a muddy lot. I opened it and went down in mud up 
to the ankles, but at last I reached that apology for a 
hotel. The women came close after me. There were 
some very angry comments made by the passengers 
upon the conduct of the surly English purser. 

The next morning (Sunday) the weather was warm 
and muggy, and it looked like more rain. The stage 
had been woefully late, not having gotten in until five 
in the morning. Hearing that a man by the name of 
" Billy " Lyons kept a good house eight miles away on 
our route, and as the stage would be heavily loaded — 
there were seventeen passengers to go — I paid my bill, 
and, getting " W. J." to look after my luggage, started 
to walk to the abode of " Billy " Lyons. One of the 
men said as I started : 



AN EXCITING TRIP 321 

" Mister, the mile posts will say eight miles, all right 
enough, but the road winds around from the river's 
elevation of 1,200 feet to 4,500 feet, and before you 
will get to ' Billy's ' you'll say it's a good twenty miles 
when your walk is finished." 

Not far from the hotel a Chinaman was feeding his 
chickens, and I accosted him : " John, is it going to 
rain?" 

" Ya ya, him soon rain belly hard ! " I thought 
John was right, but still went on. 

"When the first bench of the mountains was climbed 
it was necessary to remove all of my superfluous cloth- 
ing and tie it in a bundle, as I was perspiring freely. 
An Indian village with a small white Catholic church 
in its midst lured me off to the right of the road to in- 
spect it. A young Indian was carrying a set of har- 
ness through the only street of the village. Did he 
think it would rain ? 

He looked up and surveyed the sky and then said : 
" He make heap dam fuss — he no rain." Here was the 
opinion of the aboriginal American against that of the 
Oriental; which would be right? The Indian was 
right ; there was a " heap fuss," but no rain. 

At " Billy " Lyons' I found three other men who had 
walked, rather than take another meal at the Soda 
Creek Hotel. We found the proprietor and his wife to 
be half-breeds (the wife having been educated in a con- 
vent school). We had a good dinner and a good long 



322 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

rest before the stage arrived. We spent the night at 
" One-hundred-and-fifty-mile House," and left very 
early Monday morning. 

It was a singularly fortunate thing that we came out 
when we did, as the next stage which followed us was 
held up by three masked men armed with rifles, and 
they cleaned up out of the lot between $4,000 and 
$5,000. The place selected for the hold-up was behind 
a sharp curve in the road ; the time early in the morn- 
ing, when the light was anything but good. 

Neither the driver nor the passengers had any 
chance to make the slightest resistance. The bandits 
took the situation leisurely, showed no hurry or excite- 
ment, but got what they were after and then disap- 
peared in the woods. I have not heard anything of 
their capture. 

At the next stop for a change of horses we learned 
that the hostler, an old man, had dropped dead an hour 
before our arrival from heart failure. The man who 
took his place brought out the horses and put the lead- 
ers at the wheel and the wheel horses in the lead, and 
they wouldn't go, but pranced around until they broke 
the tongue. A passenger by the name of N. S. Clark, 
manager of the Fort George Lumber and Navigation 
Company, was on the stage. Mr. Clark is a man of 
brawn and initiative. 

He launched a steamer last summer on the Frazer 
River under a capable captain, who navigated two hun- 



AN EXCITING TRIP 323 

dred and fifty miles of the river which previously had 
always been considered impassable. In addition to 
this, he is building another steamer, and next spring 
will endeavor to force her through the canyons on the 
lower part of the river, between Lillooet and the Pete 
Jaune cache, and if this experiment is successful he will 
receive much praise, many thanks and lots of money in 
the shape of fares from a grateful public. 

" Nick " Clark saw that the broken tongue of the 
stage was liable to cause a day's delay to himself, and 
the rest of us, so he volunteered to repair the damage, 
as there were at hand a forge, an anvil and some iron 
plates and bolts. The work would take a couple of 
hours, so I started ahead for another long walk. Some 
seven or eight miles away I sat down to wait on the 
side of a hill for the stage, when three Chinamen came 
along and sat down beside me. The younger of 
the three had a bottle of whiskey with which he made 
quite free, inviting me to take some. Declining his of- 
fer with thanks, I asked where they were going. He 
said : 

" Me takie two Chinamen coast — they go home to 
China, — they send my boy back here." 

" How old is your boy ? " 

" Him thirteen." 

" Why are these men going home ? " 

"They too old to stay; that man he sixty-seven; 
other man fifty-five," 



324 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

" Oh, I see ; they are going home now, so as to 
carry their bones home with them and thus save the 
freight." 

He laughed very heartily at this, and told the others 
what I had said and they in turn laughed loud and 
long. 

The talkative young Chinaman said that the body of 
a Chinese who dies in this country must lie buried 
seven years ; then the bones are disinterred and wrapped 
up carefully, tagged and shipped back to China for 
burial. The whole operation costs from $25 to $35. 
The same Chinaman informed me that it now costs 
$500 to get a Chinaman of the coolie class into British 
Columbia, and they, therefore, take no chances in 
going out of the country until they are ready to 
go back to China to die and be buried with their 
ancestors. 

This old Cariboo trail has seen many migrations 
of Indians, half-breeds, hunters, trappers, clergymen, 
lumbermen, agriculturists, miners, prospectors, home- 
seekers, business men, cattlemen, drummers, school- 
teachers, and others going " in " perhaps full of hope 
and expectation, seeing new sights and new lands, new 
methods and new interests. 

On the outward trip the same classes of people pre- 
sent a very different aspect as they journey toward the 
steel rails which will take them to the busy world 
again. The incentive of adventure being lacking on 



AN EXCITING TRIP 325 

their return, they are not so demonstrative and not so 
eager to ask questions. 

They have seen and explored the unknown, and their 
curiosity, at any rate, is satisfied, and they have be- 
come wiser and richer by experience. 



CHAPTER XXIX 
THE END OF THE TRIP 

At " One-hundred-and-thirteen-mile House " we 
came to one of the loveliest of lakes. It is about 
fifteen miles long, but not very wide. The water is of 
exquisite clearness ; indeed, so clear is it that the pas- 
time of skating for fish when the first clear ice forms in 
the early fall is indulged in by lads, lasses and mature 
men and women. 

This lake is celebrated as being the home of a species 
of trout or char, some of which grow to a very large 
size and are of delicious flavor. The first ice is so clear 
that the fish can readily be seen through it, and then 
the skaters assemble in large numbers and follow them 
in their quick movements in the endeavor to drive them 
close to shore, where the water is shallow enough to 
hedge them in under the ice ; they are then dispatched 
by breaking the ice and spearing them. 

The sport is said to be very exciting, and catches are 
often made by the skaters in large enough quantity to 
salt away for the winter's use. 

Tradition says that a Frenchman was chopping 
through the heavy ice in late winter with an axe, and 
that when a hole in the ice was finally cut through, the 



THE END OF THE TRIP 327 

axe slipped to the bottom, and was lost, hence the 
name Lac La Hache — " Lake of the Axe." 

At " Eighty -three-mile House " we arrived very late, 
and found a goodly number of passengers, who had 
come earlier in the evening by the stage going north. 
The rooms in this house are not at all large, and the 
crowd necessitated a general " doubling up " of the 
travelers for the night. Our stage was to leave at 
seven in the morning, and the other one at four, so 
some confusion naturally took place when the north- 
bound people were aroused, breakfasted and started off 
on their long ride. 

The distribution of the mails along this famous 
Cariboo wagon road is quite interesting. The route 
lies through a large stretch of country where the 
ground has to be irrigated, as the rainfall is quite 
meagre. In this section many cattle are grazed, vege- 
tables cultivated and a good deal of hay is grown. 

"We noticed in addition to the letters, newspapers 
and mail order merchandise carried in the mails, that 
trade papers and magazines relative to farming and 
stock raising were distributed in abundance — the Farm 
Journal, published in Philadelphia, being most fre- 
quently seen. 

I asked a man in Barkerville why they used so many 
magazines and newspapers up there. He said because 
the nights were long and bitterly cold, and it was obvi- 
ous that much reading would be indulged in ; and, in 



328 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

consequence, stories of adventure and the news of the 
day were all eagerly devoured. 

After leaving " Eighty-three-mile House " early in 
the morning, we saw a white man just arising from the 
ground a short distance from the road, where he had 
spent the night. He had no tent over him or blanket 
under him, but he had gathered a few branches in lieu 
of a mattress, built a little fire, which was yet smoulder- 
ing as we passed, and with his rifle lying by his side he 
had thus passed the night. 

Further on we saw many groups of Siwash Indians 
— bucks, squaws and papooses — some seated around 
camp-fires eating their morning meal, and some appar- 
ently sound asleep. Their cayuse ponies were tethered 
close by the camp-fires, while the dogs were huddled 
together near their masters. All of these many groups 
of Indians were migrating south for the winter. 

Now and then we would notice a Chinaman, or per- 
haps a pair of .them, bunking with the red men, or 
traveling with them in their wagons. The Chinamen 
seem to get along very well with the aboriginals, and 
the mingling of the races excites no comment. 

We came to an Indian reservation, where the occu- 
pants were all dressed in gala attire. Their horses 
were hitched to fences and trees, and the men, the 
squaws and the children were laughing and apparently 
in rare good humor. Upon inquiry we were informed 
that the day was a holiday ; that the priest was to be 




CO 



& 



pa 



3 



THE END OF THE TRIP 329 

there, and was even then expected to arrive at any 
minute. 

After the mass, the sermon and the private instruc- 
tions of the priest, there were to be horse-races and 
other amusements that the Indians delight in upon 
holiday occasions. 

The Jesuits undoubtedly have been strong factors in 
helping to civilize the Indians of the Northwest, and 
are now doing much to lead them to higher and better 
living. 

In former times the priests suffered great privation 
from hunger, cold, and fatigue; but they persevered 
and worked cheerfully and without grumbling over 
their hard lot. Finally they won the confidence of the 
natives, their admonitions were listened to, and grad- 
ually, though very slowly, they instilled into the peo- 
ple some of the brighter things to be found in 
civilized life, while steering them away from many of 
its evils. 

At Clinton, thirty-four miles from Ashcroft, we had 
dinner. Here the Chinamen have stores and also act 
as contractors in cutting down timber for fire-wood. 
From this place to Ashcroft the country has very much 
the appearance of a great portion of Arizona. It is a 
section where irrigation must be. resorted to if vegeta- 
tion is to flourish at all. 

We were shown an irrigation ditch of several miles 
in length that had been surveyed and staked out by an 



330 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

engineer of repute and built at an enormous cost. When 
the work was finished, it was found that the water 
wouldn't run in it at all, because it was mostly up-hill. 
The engineer had blundered, but his blunder ruined his 
patron, as he lost by it every dollar he had in the 
world. 

At " Twelve-mile House " we saw an example of 
what irrigation can do in the lusty growth of grasses, 
flowers, oats, hay and fruits. Outside of the irrigated 
tract everything was dried up and parched. 

In the bottom lands along the Bonaparte River pota- 
toes of fine quality are grown in abundance, making 
Ashcroft the shipping point every fall for hundreds of 
carloads of the tubers. 

We finally pulled into Ashcroft, crossed the bridge over 
the north branch of the Thompson River and rattled up 
to the office of the British Columbia Express Company 
upon schedule time — at precisely six o'clock in the 
evening. Our train was to leave at ten, and through 
the courtesy of J. D. Moore, the agent of the express 
company, we were permitted, after supper, to return to 
the company's office (where our trunks had been left 
upon our arrival there on August 29th) to change our 
clothes and repack our trunks for shipment to the East. 
This necessary work took considerable time. 

The night was hot and close, and the door was fre- 
quently opened by persons inquiring for packages, 
trunks, satchels, etc. Among the number were several 



THE END OF THE TRIP 331 

women, so we did considerable dodging behind 
trunks while the process of undressing and dressing 
went on. 

We had to pack our trophies, portions of logs cut 
down by beavers, many high-colored stones picked up 
on the banks of the Frazer River, jars of blueberries 
that one of our " Falstaffs " was taking home to show 
what real blueberries were like, the hide, antlers and 
scalp of a caribou ; two bear hides and the dried skins 
of trout for mounting. 

When this work was all finished, we found it would 
be necessary to see the customs officer to bond our stuff 
through, for if we failed to do so, it might be delayed. 
With three green hides in one trunk, an unusual delay 
might ruin them. 

We found the customs officer, and although he was on 
his way to an entertainment in company with his wife, 
he cheerfully came to our rescue, and saw that the 
magical leaden seals were affixed to our trunks. 

The hotel men at the Ashcroft Hotel were equally 
courteous, for although we only took supper there, they 
placed two of their best rooms on the ground floor at 
our disposal, saying that the train might be late, and 
we ought to lie down and take a rest. The train was 
late and we fully appreciated their kindness, but they 
refused to take any pay for the use of their rooms. At 
a few minutes of midnight, the headlight of the locomo- 
tive that was to start us upon our long journey to the 



332 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

East loomed up, and we were once more on the steel 
rails and bound for home. 

It may be well just here to sum up the results of this 
journey of close to 10,000 miles in the always exciting 
search after big game. 

Early in August our monitor advised us by wire to 
be at Barkerville on September first, and we were there 
on the second. In the light of our present experience 
we were at least one month too early, and were we to 
repeat the trip, we would expect to start in hunting on 
the first of October. By that time the frost, snow and 
sleet, the rains and high winds would have denuded 
the willow brush of its wealth of leaves. The blueberry 
season would be over, and the spawning salmon would 
all be dead. 

The grizzly bears, then having neither berries nor 
salmon to feed upon, would be traveling around con- 
siderably before " holing up," and the willow brush, 
naked of leafage, would not act as a screen for them ; 
they could be seen and followed with a reasonable 
chance of killing one or more of them. 

The amount of game which fell to our rifles was 
Avoefully out of tune with our expectations, but the 
wealth of experience gained was of such a varied char- 
acter, that we consider the trip one of the most satis- 
factory among many which are now happy memories 
of the past. 

The district of Cariboo, in which we hunted, is one 



THE END OF THE TRIP 333 

of the largest districts of British Columbia. It is of 
greater extent than the state of Pennsylvania, and yet 
it polls less than 500 votes. This will serve to show 
the sparseness of human life in this vast tract of mostly 
undeveloped land. 

Cassiar district, still further to the northwest and 
adjoining the territory of Alaska, is another region of 
magnificent distances which the new Grand Trunk 
Pacific Kailroad will help to develop. Great fortunes 
loom up as the reward for pioneers when this railway 
is finally in operation. 

There are billions of feet of logs to be cut where 
never a tree has yet been felled for shipment, and mil- 
lions of tons of coal that now lie undisturbed in the 
bowels of the earth. Enormous deposits of iron ore, of 
copper ore and of gold will be opened up through the 
magic influence of the steel rails which will connect 
the forests and waters of New Brunswick and Nova 
Scqtia with those of the Frazer, the Peace, the Skeena, 
the Parsnip, the Blackwater, the Stickine, and the 
Thompson Rivers. 

The term " Northwest " gives but little idea of what 
a vast stretch of country, mostly unsurveyed, it repre- 
sents. In the official Bulletin No. 22, just issued by 
the government of New British Columbia, the report 
of a single one of its many expeditions sent out every 
year to explore and write up the resources, characteris- 
tics and possibilities of development of this far-off 



334 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

Golconda may serve to throw a little light upon this 
most interesting part of the northern hemisphere. 

The exploring party was made up of but three men 
for part of the time, and later there were only two 
men engaged in the work. The route taken was from 
Victoria and Vancouver to Essington, at the mouth of 
the Skeena River, a journey of six hundred and forty- 
five miles ; up the Skeena by steamer to Hazleton, one 
hundred and eighty miles ; by pack train to Babine, 
seventy miles ; up Babine Lake by canoe, with a port- 
age of twelve miles to Stuart Lake, and thence to Fort 
St. James, one hundred and fifty miles. 

From Fort St. James, they went by packhorse to 
McLeod Lake, eighty-five miles. McLeod Lake being 
on the head waters of the Peace River, canoes were 
used to the head of the Peace River canyon, one hun- 
dred and eighty-two miles. Then a portage around 
the canyon of fourteen miles compelled the party to 
abandon its canoes and " pack " all of its supplies and 
camp outfit on their backs to Hudson Hope. 

From there to Fort St. John, on the Peace River, was 
a trip of sixty miles. They expected to make the 
journey on a raft, but, fortunately, they met an Indian 
with some horses, and they made a detour with him to 
Moberly Lake, in the Pine River district, making in all 
an overland trip of ninety miles. 

Next a trip to Ponce Coupe prairie and return by 
packhorses, one hundred and eighty-five miles. At 



THE END OF THE TRIP 335 

Fort St. John a bateau was obtained from the Hudson 
Bay Company, and in this they went down the river to 
the junction of the Smoky River with the Peace River, 
one hundred and eighty miles. Then by freight wagon 
to the upper end of Lesser Slave Lake, one hundred 
miles ; then down Lesser Slave Lake and river and 
Athabasca River to Athabasca landing, in a canoe, two 
hundred miles ; and, lastly, by wagon road to Edmon- 
ton, one hundred miles, making a total journey of ap- 
proximately 3,120 miles. 

The report says : " The range has only begun to be 
prospected, and its potentialities are as yet undemon- 
strated. 

" In this far North country wild hay and other wild 
grasses were growing prolifically, and presumably rye, 
oats, barley and wheat would likewise grow in abun- 
dance. All garden vegetables and root crops are suc- 
cessfully grown, while raspberries, currants, strawber- 
ries and gooseberries grow in wanton profusion." 

A botanist who accompanied a previous geological 
survey writes : 

"Clumps of willows and poplars of various ages 
were interspersed with the most astonishing growth of 
herbaceous plants I ever witnessed. ... It would 
be folly to attempt to depict the appearance of the 
country, as it was so much beyond what I ever saw 
that I hardly dare make use of truthful words to por- 
tray it." 



336 WITH GUN AND GUIDE 

All that has been needed in the past to open up to 
cultivation and civilization this great northern empire 
was transportation. And now that the new railroad is 
to be in operation all the way from the Atlantic to the 
Pacific by 1912, there is no living man who can ac- 
curately predict the possibilities and the future of this 
great country. 

I rejoice that I have been able to see even a small 
portion of it ; to mingle with its pioneers ; to tramp 
over an unsurveyed territory ; to see nature in perhaps 
her roughest moods ; to breathe the wonderfully 
stimulating air ; to endure hardships successfully, in 
company with the trapper, the woodsman, the pros- 
pector, the explorer ; to have crossed dizzy mountain 
heights on the back of the safe old packhorse ; to have 
" packed " my share of the loads over portages and effi- 
ciently used the bow paddle of the boat from first to 
last of the whole trip : that in the time thus employed I 
was always in prime health, no matter how great the 
exposure to the weather, or how meagre the food sup- 
ply : and, lastly, that I returned safely, freshened of 
mind, strengthened of body, and with an experience 
that will never be forgotten. 

And now my tale is told. The curtain is rung down, 
but before the audience is dismissed, a last word might 
well be said. 

For you, readers, who have followed my story from 
that superheated day, the 24th of August, when we bade 



THE END OF THE TRIP 337 

farewell to the bunch of friends gathered at the rail- 
road station, to this last writing, I truly hope that 
something that has been written will induce you to try 
the experience of living for a time at least in the open 
air. 

Select some section of the land where you will have 
to bestir yourselves — to endure some hardships, some 
privations, some exposure to the elements ; where a din- 
ner upon boiled rice with an accompaniment of ripe 
blueberries will taste better than the most sumptuous 
banquet to which you ever sat down ; where you 
will have to scale snow-clad mountains and tramp 
through the snow, making your lungs work as never 
before ; where you will oftentimes be so weary as to 
drop to the ground for rest, and presto — you're asleep, 
only to be awakened, renewed in muscular strength, 
more resolute of purpose and with a clearer intellect. 
You will rejoice, when at last you return to your own 
fireside, that for once, at least, you have lived a new 
life — that you have learned to know what the " great 
white silence " means and that you have commenced to 
know yourself. In all of this writing I have been en- 
deavoring to help you. 

" God knows I have tried to be true ; 
Please God, you will understand." 




3 



*5 -^ 



A 1 






■^o^ 









,> «- 







^ N 









ciV 






£ ^ 









A " 






tf 



W 









•7 J , v>> 









v\ 



^- '' 






vV 






V * 






'*& ,^ v 



^ ^. 







<V 



V -/> 



*** ^ 















o N 






\ v ' ^ 



-0 






^ „ %-' ,# 






A 



/ 

# 






V" <?■ 







•^ ,A^ 



.V 



-A 






$ 






* -K, 



<$ 













c*v *• , 









A 






.*** *' 



O 






A ^> * 

> 



c?0 N 









- ^V i* 








o t 


* 






•/• 








c 








:, ** 






- 


^ 








c> 


^ 



.V 



- V- -A 1 



